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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." 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 family’s 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, “Lulu, make preparations. We’re going to see His Majesty tomorrow.” Lulu’s brow furrowed, as if knowing Carissa's purpose, “But, my lady, I don’t think His Majesty will revoke his edict—” Carissa shook her head, “No, Lulu, I’m not asking him to change the edict, but to request a new one—an amicable divorce from Barrett.” Lulu’s eyes widened that instant, “A divorce! My lady, you want a divorce?” 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
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 😍Read the next chapters👉 Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However
 "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were
 I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. 
 Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. 
 At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but
" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. 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
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 Read more FREE chapters👉 It’s not the first time I received photos of my husband, Owen, cheating on me. After losing my parents, I was adopted by Owen’s 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, it’s been three years. But Owen had been acting very strange recently. These photos seemed to explain why... I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. Owen was on the phone with his friend. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” Owen’s words gave me icy chills. “How could he say that?!” 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 couldn’t believe what I heard
 “Josie
? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I couldn’t 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 Owen’s 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 family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. I couldn’t believe such a wonderful man would confess to me. I didn’t know why he would fall in love with such an ordinary woman like me? He’s 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. “Don’t be scared, Noah.” “I’ll protect you.” “I’m willing to take responsibility.” “Noah, I love you.” 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
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ “Where the f-k is she?” 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. “Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office like you were askedd.” 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. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” I don’t 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 didn’t mess around and he had the largest pack. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” 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. ”Useless f-king Wolf.” 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 don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting to my feet. “I
I thought I was alone.” I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I do as I’m told, allowing him to see me properly and I am met with narrowed crimson eyes. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” I nod, though I couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” I whisper. I couldn’t help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? I wasn’t sure how much more my body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I
..” I hated the question. “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldn’t scent him. I knew why I hadn’t 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. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound,” I mutter. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, “Why would someone do that?” If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” I whisper. It wasn’t far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me “Neah, what the heck are you doing in my office?” He turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s 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. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like shit?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “Neah was responsible for our parents' death.” Alpha Trey spits. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. “Responsible how?” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. “She served them Wolfsbane.” Don’t make a sound. Don’t make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. Slowly, his hand latches onto my throat but he doesn’t squeeze. “You poisoned your parents?” “I was six.” I splutter. “I just made them lemonade.” My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. “Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old.” “A six year old should know the difference between plants.” Alpha Trey snaps “Sounds to me like she was set up.” Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of my throat. “You weren’t there, Alpha Dane.” My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. “I didn’t ask you here to talk about my slave!” Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha’s he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha’s, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. “You’re right and now I have a few things to mull over.” “I thought we agreed.” My brother exclaims. “Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out.” The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. “What the f-k did you say to him?” My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. “N..nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny.” “Did you tell him?” Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. “WELL?” My brother yells when I don’t immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. “But I didn’t say it was you.” I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. “If you have ruined this, you won’t see daylight again.” He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. “Please
.” I beg. “He was an Alpha
I
 I had to answer him.” My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull. “Alpha Dane, I thought you had left.” Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. “I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?” “As I said,” my brother holds his ground, “She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves.” “You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!” Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. “If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?” “We don’t
.” “Really?” He cocks a brow, “You 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. “I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey.” Alpha Dane is smirking at my brother. “We have already agreed on terms.” “Well, I’m adding one. And if you don’t agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don’t want that.” “I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?” Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. “You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal.” Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? “Deal.” Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn’t take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. “I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow.” He reaches a hand out and cups my face, “Ensure you have everything packed.” He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. “If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about.” He struts out, slamming the door behind him. 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
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......” 💔Nyla 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? Or
' 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 didn’t 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 let’s 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 clock—3:16 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. Nyla’s 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 entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced 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 here—" "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 Clark’s 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 Clark’s 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 Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re 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 Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s 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. Damon’s 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. "Let— Mmph! Let me go
" 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, Nyla’s 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 didn’t 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 go
" Nyla’s 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 couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon
" 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 mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s 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 nephew’s 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 didn’t 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 didn’t 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, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love
 It was just an accident with her
" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re 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, I’ll 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. Clark’s 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, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t 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 Damon’s 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 didn’t 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. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s 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 won’t 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 didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d 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?" Nyla’s 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." Clark’s 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 Clark’s 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 self—selfish, 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 month—" 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. "Let’s 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 wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s 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 Nyla’s 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 don’t 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 don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re 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 don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t 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 Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t 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 I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” 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. Clark’s 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, you’ll 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 wouldn’t 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 wouldn’t 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 couldn’t 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, we’ll 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 years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving 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
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ 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, “Useless Stupid Wolf! Clean the office asap! Our guest, Alpha Dane will be arriving soon!” Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn’t mess around and he had the largest pack. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” 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. “Uhheem” Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting to my feet. “I
I thought I was alone.” I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I’m told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” I nod, though I couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” I whisper. I couldn’t help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? “Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I
” I hated the question. “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” His deep voice sends a shiver through me, “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It’s rude to not look at them.” Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound,” I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn’t interested in that part. He leans forward, carefully placing his glass on the small table next to the chair. I could feel him staring at me, “Why would someone do that?” If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” I whisper. It wasn’t far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me “Neah, what the fuck are you doing in my office?” He turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s 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. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” 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. “Get out now!” 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 have
. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. “Why do you treat her like shit?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “She's an unforgiven murderer.” Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. “Murdered who?” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. “Our parents.” 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
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ 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." Sophie’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. 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
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 😍Read the next chapters👉 At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... 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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ 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 woman—his mistress—was 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 set—he 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 interview—it 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 know
" "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 mother—and 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 fit—" "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 him—like 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 performance—to 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 strength—and 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 knock—or even open—her 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 him—he 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 ambiguity—she 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. "Justine
" 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 importantly—don'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 him—and he would never accept her. Justine was kind and courteous to everyone except Jenny. Ash had never managed to protect her well enough—the 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 one—not 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 her—a 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 right—a 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 refused—until 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 her—until 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 hands—just 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 her—it 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 Justine’s 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 possessed—everyone 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 soon—let 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 truth—Ares' death—would 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 you
" 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 trauma—from before her time in the orphanage—that 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. Ash’s 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 know
" 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
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 Чотать ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ глаĐČу👉 ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ДД заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с ŃƒĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶. К ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ…Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° пустую ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, Đž Дё Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń‹ĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃ€Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсД аспДĐșты Дё Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃŒĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đž Дё Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČа. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐŽĐžĐ» Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ŃĐŸŃŽĐ·Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Её ЎДЎушĐșа Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ŃˆĐŸŃ„Ń‘Ń€ĐŸĐŒ у Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČы ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒŃ‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃƒŃŽ аĐČарою, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, спасая Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. В ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Дё ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČсюЮу ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃĐ·Đ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń…. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, Дё хотрыĐč ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž у ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ былО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐ” ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČых. Đ’ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐČĐœŃƒĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ВОталОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. УчотыĐČая Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐŸĐœĐž былО уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœŃ‹, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тД ЮаЮут Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° руĐșу Đž сДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. И, ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃƒŃĐ°, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО бы Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ сĐČŃĐ·ŃŒ с ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ‘Đč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была бы заĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ сĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đ Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŸĐœĐž росĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”. ВОталОĐč Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” яĐČĐžĐČшось ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșДт, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” просутстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ” Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐžĐœ таĐșжД ĐŸŃ‚Đșазал ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Ń„Đ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых Đž запрДтОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. На ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ°, ĐœĐžĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. ĐĄĐ”Đčчас ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ с ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž распраĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‡Đ°ĐŒĐž. Её Ń€Đ”ŃĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, слДгĐșа ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń… Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ? В Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДЎёт пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Дё ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” стала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃƒĐŒŃ‹ĐČать. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз зала Đž ĐČызĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоться ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. ĐœĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ запОсО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐČ, а Дё ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ стуĐșĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ĐČĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đž ŃƒĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ” успДла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ глаза, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Ń‰Đ”Đ»Ń‡ĐŸĐș ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ Дё ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. Â«ĐšŃ‚ĐŸ...» ĐĐ” успДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșаĐș Дё Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ». Куча ĐșĐ°ĐœŃ†Đ”Đ»ŃŃ€ŃĐșох ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč упала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Дё шДД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ!» - сĐČĐžŃ€Đ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОĐč. ДДĐČушĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń†Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČ Ń‚ŃƒŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ сĐČДтД, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ был ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. В ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃƒŃ…Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐžŃ… ĐČОтал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč запах жДлДза, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. Đ‘Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đž ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Ńƒ ĐČрача, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČОД. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ ĐœĐŸĐłŃƒ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ атаĐșĐŸĐČать ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČОЎДл Дё ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČал Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Ń‚ĐŸ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč сжал Дё ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ” Đž прОжал Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đ±Ń‘ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐŒĐž. ВЮруг ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆŃƒĐŒ ŃˆĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «БыстрДД, я ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃˆŃ‘Đ» сюЮа!» Đ”ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșроĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž, Đž это люЎО ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ. ОтчаяĐČшось, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° стала Đ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž была уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ту ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃƒ ĐŽĐČДрО, схĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ за ручĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐČ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Đș сДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐ”ŃŽ. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ŃŒÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё страх ĐœĐ” был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đœ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ŃˆŃƒĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ». Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ” ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” у сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ уха: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ за ŃŃ‚ĐŸÂ». Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ был ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐžĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ протĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ был ĐœĐž за Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° тут жД ŃĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**луД. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ох Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČуĐș. ĐžĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł бы ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ, ДслО бы люЎО за ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đž. «Ч*рт ĐČ*Đ·ŃŒĐŒĐž! Да ŃŃ‚ĐŸ жД ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ц**ующаяся ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸŃ‡Đșа. ЧуĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐčтД Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČДт Оз ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń пару. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, сĐșрыĐČая Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœŃ‹Ń… глаз ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ВОталОĐč. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒĐ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐŸĐș Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, я ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаюсь, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ хĐČатот сОл ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĐŸ, чуĐČаĐș, эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаёт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đ” Đ·ĐČуĐșĐž, а?» «ЗатĐșĐœĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčся! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ”, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы!» ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ… Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐżĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČатДлО ушлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃ‚Đž Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ… Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ОлО ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ Юруг Юруга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ прОлОĐČĐ” Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Ń…ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ±ŃƒĐœŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃĐșая жОлĐșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ”ĐČала. Đ”ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа жОла ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒŃŽ, ĐČсДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃŒ праĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз - Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы раз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČать ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐŸŃ‚Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐž запрДты Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžĐč, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Дё ĐČ Ń‰Ń‘Đșу. «Я проЮу за Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČсё Дщё ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. А Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃˆŃ‘Đ», таĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆŃ‘Đ». ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. ĐąĐžŃˆĐžĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒŃˆĐžĐ» Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Дё Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ лДжОт ĐœĐ° Đșраю ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° схĐČатОла Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” упал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€! - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -В Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ проĐČДзлО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČарою Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ» ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹Đ” траĐČĐŒŃ‹. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČы ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ŃŒ!» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń€ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ, я буЎу чДрДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đșу Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐŽĐČДрО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ был ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ сДĐčчас Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ОлО Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃŃ‚ĐČоях. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° проĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ эĐșŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž. Đ’Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ужД Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐžĐ»ŃŃ рассĐČДт. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČсё таĐș жД ĐłŃ€ŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. РуĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž ŃĐ¶Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșулаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČыЮаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста». Â«Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” я спраĐČĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ±ŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ, Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž. - Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČсё ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ?» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «ОĐč, я ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ох. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐžŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ. ĐŻ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐčЎу». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” прОЎала ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČДщО. ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа успДла ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐș Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ГлаĐČа 2 ЧуĐČстĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ‹ Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČрач, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, - сĐșазал ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. - Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐžŃ€Đ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° таблОчĐșу с ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ халатД ĐŻĐœŃ‹. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° была ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”. Â«ĐšŃƒĐŽĐ° ĐŒŃ‹ ĐžĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Дё ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ. ĐžĐœ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Дё за руĐșу Đž сĐșазал: Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ”. ĐĐ” застаĐČĐ»ŃĐčтД ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ” ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. ВОталОĐč сОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐŸŃ‰Đ°ĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ” Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž былО сĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœŃ‹ пДрДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč глаз Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ былО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. К счастью, рДзĐșĐžĐč запах ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ срДЎстĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, сĐșрыĐČал запах Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐžĐœ был ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐČ Ń‡ĐžŃŃ‚Ń‹Đč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč таĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł сĐșрыть ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ” ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČшОД бы ĐČсДх ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžŃ…. В Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОца чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ жёстĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń таĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°, Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń‹ĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎу, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ шутоть. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃƒ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ВОталОю ĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸ: Â«Đ’ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž с ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€ ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹, сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ сЎДлалО ĐČашО ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОД. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đž слДЎы Đž ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČсД ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” улОĐșĐž. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ĐČДрЎОл ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐŻ таĐșжД ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОл запОсО. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ‹ рДзĐșĐŸ пДрДхĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž Â«ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚Â». «Вы Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ВОталОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ‹ĐČая Дё с ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° тут жД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. «Да... Đ­-ŃŃ‚ĐŸ была ŃÂ», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń… ĐČĐŸĐčто ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đș ВОталОю ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу. Đ’Ń‹ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” застаĐČот ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ праĐșтоĐșĐž. И Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș таĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČсД ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃĐ»Đž Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœŃ‹ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń‹ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČут ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ° сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Ń‹ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ŃƒŃ‡Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ЕслО уж ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐż Đș Ń€Đ”ŃŃƒŃ€ŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐČŃĐ·Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆŃƒŃŽ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать тДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ты Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ЎажД браĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ прДрĐČал Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒ ĐŸ ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° жёстĐșую Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° сДбД прДЎстаĐČоть, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° с Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃˆŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČстал ВОталОĐč Đž Đ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃĐ° Юать Đ”Đč сĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐșŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ВОталОю ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. «В ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, Đž ĐČсё Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ Đž сĐșазал: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». Â«ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČДрОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ с ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‚ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ВОталОю. Â«ĐĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČы ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃŒ ужД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ браĐș яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ°ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃÂ». Đ“ŃƒĐ±Ń‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃ‘Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ браĐșĐ”, а Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ застаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. «йДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșу. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сĐșазал Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž тут жД Đ·Đ°ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ злОт Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃĐ° - ĐœĐŸĐČая ĐœĐ”ĐČДста ОлО Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰ĐžĐč за ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. Đ­ĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ… лДт, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČстрДтОла Дё ĐČ Ń„ĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČас ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла та. Её глаза былО ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃˆĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐžĐČать ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐČДрх Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃƒ. Её ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đș ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽŃ‹ĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Дё щёĐșĐž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ, ĐșаĐș бы спасаясь ĐŸŃ‚ трДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. Её чуĐČстĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ былО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, с Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” прДЎстаĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ был за Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. Đ‘ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ была Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. От ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” проĐČДлО ох Đș ĐœŃ‹ĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ, фаĐșт ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ фаĐșŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ВОталОĐč яĐČĐ»ŃŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ тут жД Đ·Đ°ŃŃƒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐ”Ń‘: «Вы ĐŸĐżŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ” таĐș сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ бы ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČтраĐșать?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚, я ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°ŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČрач, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ”ŃƒĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”Đč стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ВыпДĐčтД Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ”Â». Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. Â«ĐĐ” за Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ браĐș Đž был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ сĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșа. ДажД бДз Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČрач, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ЎДлаДт Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč уĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ”ĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° стаĐșĐ°Đœ ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°ĐœŃŒŃˆĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ заĐčто ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń†ĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń€. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč тДрапОО. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОла ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ХДрЎцД ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ страЎала ĐŸŃ‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșрОтОчДсĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. Đ•ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž была пДрДсаЎĐșа сДрЎца, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ бы ĐČ Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° браĐș, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃ‹Đ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃ€Đ° сДрЎца. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ: Â«ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ°, я Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡Ńƒ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń‰Đ°ŃŽÂ». Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Дё глаĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ‘Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșĐ°Ń€ĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ты ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ услугу». ГлаĐČа 3 Đ§Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœ был ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃˆĐ” Дё. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ был ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ эĐșŃĐżĐ”Ń€Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚Đž. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐž былО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «О ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč услугД оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ?» - ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐčся ĐČ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž я ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčшДД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃĐ”, Đž, ДслО ĐœĐ” счотать ĐŽĐČух ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° была праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Да, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ. КуЮа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃˆŃƒ тДбД аЎрДс. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€Ń‘ŃˆŃŒŃŃ туЮа, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты прОДхала Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃƒ ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. «Ещё ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐœ стал ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. - НоĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč Đ»ĐžŃˆĐœĐžŃ… ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. Всё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°Â». Â«ĐŻŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČызĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ раĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°Ń‰Ń‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐœŃ. КаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ†ĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Дё ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș прОгласОл ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐ”ĐœŃŒĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ. ЧДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сотуацоя ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ была ŃŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. ĐžĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃ. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”, ĐČы » - ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. Из уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ужД сЎДлала ĐČыĐČĐŸĐŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃ‡Đ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșу. Đ‘Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ была ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚Đ”Ń‚Đ”. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЎа», - сĐșазала ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ĐœĐ° аптДчĐșу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎДржала: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» «Да, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșцоо. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ĐČсё ĐČ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ„ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐœĐ” пДрДЎал бы сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” заслужОĐČаДт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐžŃ ОлО ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚Đ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ утĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČёл Дё ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń€ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃˆĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДрх ĐżĐŸ Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžŃ†Đ” ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. В ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «КаĐș я буЎу ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз сĐČДта?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ схĐČатОл сĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. «ВĐșлючО сĐČДт», - проĐșазал ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ тĐșĐ°ĐœŃŒ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ щёлĐșĐœŃƒĐ» ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ залОл ярĐșĐžĐč сĐČДт. ĐŸĐ”Ń€ĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° был ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”Đč. ĐžĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, Đ»Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато, чья Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșа была ĐČ ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń… ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐŸŃ…ŃˆĐ”Đč ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐČЎаĐČаться ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐČыЮаĐČать сĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ уĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°ĐŒĐž разрДзала Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșу ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐżĐŸĐșрыты Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń€Đ»Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČсё Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, уĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° праĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ŃĐ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐČ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. Всё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ былО Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”ĐșтоĐČĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. Â«Đ•ŃŃ‚ŃŒ лО у ĐČас Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”Ń€ĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° чДрДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. К счастью, Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ былО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČрДЎОлО Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆŃƒŃŽ часть ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ†Đ”ŃŃ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ рДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ с Дё Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ВОталОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Дё. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚Â», - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ…ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ Дё ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ»Đ° Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Дё ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг Ń€Đ°Đœ. Đ˜ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ пару ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČОД прДпарата, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° шĐČы. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ чДрДз час ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† заĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ°. В Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ Đž ŃƒŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” руĐșĐž Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃƒŃŽÂ». «Вы ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚Đ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать ту, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·ŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° пДрĐČыĐč ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ заĐșрыл ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đș ВОталОю. «Я ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃ‚Ń‹, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČшОД ĐœĐ° ĐČас ĐČчДра, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ°ŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ ОзбаĐČоться ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČас, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČы ĐČычОслОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČашДĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - сĐșазал Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, усажОĐČаясь, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș Đșраю ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато Đž ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐžĐœ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ» ŃĐ»Đ°Đ±Ń‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃ‹Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ блДсĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° пДрДĐČёл ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșа. «Эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč я был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒŃƒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: Â«ĐĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐžĐŒ Ń‚Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČыЮать сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŽĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ за Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐ°Ń‚Ń€ĐžĐČал ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃƒĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃŽ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚Đ°. Đ”ĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». Â«ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” пДрДстаёт ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ уЎОĐČĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșажЎыĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт», - сĐșазал ВОталОĐč. За ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃƒŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČоя Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‚ĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Đœ Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃ. «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ°Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»Ń‹Đč бар "ĐšĐ°Ń€ĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»ĐžŃ†Đ” АрбатсĐșĐ°ŃÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ВОталОĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсё ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» с ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Да, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Đșлуб стал ох Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž ДслО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃ€ĐŸŃŽŃ‚, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ проЮётся ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń‚ŃƒĐłĐŸÂ», - сĐșазал Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒÂ», - сĐșазал ВОталОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ стал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșтаĐČу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° спусĐșĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу Đ·Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Дё ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”Đșта: «ЕслО ĐČы рассĐșажДтД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ, ĐČас ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń‚ŃŒÂ», - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ЕслО ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ… ĐŸ траĐČĐŒĐ°Ń… Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčЮёт ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‹ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·Ńƒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°: «Я ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ уĐčЎу». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ у ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČДрО. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐșОД плДчО Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒŃŽ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃƒ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. «Вы разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ушлО?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃ‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČал Дё ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу. КаĐș бы Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČать, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐŸĐČал Дё. ГлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșа ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. КаĐș бы Ń‚Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČсё жД была ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐŸĐŒ. Â«Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐž Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹. Đ”Đ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒĐčтД ох раз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹Â». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла Đ±ŃƒŃ‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸŃ‡Đșу с таблДтĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž тюбОĐș с ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу. «Я ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ это лДĐșарстĐČа». ВОталОĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” сĐșазала Đž ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ жД ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ужД ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ†Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČую, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ пДрДĐșусоть. ЕЮĐČа ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐČшось за сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Дё ĐČызĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚ глаĐČĐČрача. «Я ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐŻĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșу», - сĐșазал глаĐČĐČрач Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° была ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐĐŸ я ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы ужД Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоть ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Â«ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, я уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”Đœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČсё ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń…ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐ”Đč "ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚". ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐżĐŸĐčто ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‰Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœĐž Đž былО ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń… Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸ тДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ХДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐșаĐș?» «Да, Đ±ĐŸŃŽŃŃŒ, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹ руĐșĐž. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ…, ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČрач Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ срДЎО сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… сĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč этоĐșĐ”. ГлаĐČĐČрач Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžĐ» Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČсДх ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Ń…. «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° сДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° сДбД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐœĐ” ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ расстраоĐČаться Оз-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČа Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ĐžĐœ был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° рассчотыĐČать ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” Дщё ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČоться Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐżĐŸĐčЎу», - ŃĐŒĐžŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ сĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сотуацою. ГлаĐČĐČрач ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ», ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° с ŃĐœŃ‚ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ, пытаясь ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžŃŽ, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșую Ń„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒŃƒ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐČ ĐČĐČДрх, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐżĐ»ŃŽŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐ». Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: «ЗЎраĐČстĐČуĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐžĐČДтстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ярĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ. - бы сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ? ĐŸĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒ ŃƒĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ИзĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ЎДла, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” была ĐČ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžŃ… ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ… с ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐž былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ОбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ жД ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДт ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž Ń‚ĐŸ жД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Ещё Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° была Ń‚ĐŸĐč Дщё штучĐșĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐ° была ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃ†ĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐŸĐČаться Đž проĐČлДĐșать ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”Đ” ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽŃŒ, ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đž была ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž былО Đ°Đ±ŃĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃ‚ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. ĐŸĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ лаЎОлО. «О, ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, - сĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - Đ’ĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”-Ń‚ĐŸ я Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČстала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ шĐșафчоĐșу, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ халат. Â«Đ“ĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžÂ», - сĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃƒ. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ фаĐșт, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° таĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŻĐœŃ‹. «йы, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ўа? ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€â€ŠÂ» «Всё ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșД», - пДрДбОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Дщё ĐœĐ” ĐČсё сĐșазала Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «И Дщё, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșрДтД Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ты ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? Đ—ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу я ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°ŃŽŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Â». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŻĐœŃ‹ была ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” сĐșажу». В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. Đ’Ń€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сталĐșĐžĐČаться с Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž чрДзĐČычаĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. На Ń‚Đ”Ń€Ń€ĐžŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ сОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была пропарĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° у ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚. Â«ĐŃƒ, - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ, - Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ†Đ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč сОЎДл ВОталОĐč, ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșу ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃ. ĐžĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČрачД, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč лДчОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž былО Дё ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČоя. На ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° был ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Дё ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃĐŒĐž. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ’ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČЮруг Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» стДĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Đ‘Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐŸĐœ сĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ° Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ” Дё?» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ заблДстДл ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа. Â«ĐžĐœĐ° была ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃˆĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД». ВОталОю ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, эта ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ спасла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДчОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹? Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃƒĐŽŃŒĐ±Đ°?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ’ŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Юать Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃƒ ŃˆĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČь? «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта ты ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‘ŃˆŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшось, пДрДĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ с ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” захĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” аĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- Lime novel https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ 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
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 đŸ”„đŸ”„Click to read the next chapter for free👉 At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 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
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 Чотать ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ глаĐČу👉 ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ДД заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с ŃƒĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶. К ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ…Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° пустую ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, Đž Дё Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń‹ĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃ€Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсД аспДĐșты Дё Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃŒĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đž Дё Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČа. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐŽĐžĐ» Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ŃĐŸŃŽĐ·Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Её ЎДЎушĐșа Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ŃˆĐŸŃ„Ń‘Ń€ĐŸĐŒ у Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČы ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒŃ‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃƒŃŽ аĐČарою, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, спасая Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. В ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Дё ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČсюЮу ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃĐ·Đ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń…. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, Дё хотрыĐč ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž у ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ былО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐ” ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČых. Đ’ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐČĐœŃƒĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ВОталОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. УчотыĐČая Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐŸĐœĐž былО уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœŃ‹, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тД ЮаЮут Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° руĐșу Đž сДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. И, ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃƒŃĐ°, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО бы Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ сĐČŃĐ·ŃŒ с ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ‘Đč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была бы заĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ сĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đ Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŸĐœĐž росĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”. ВОталОĐč Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” яĐČĐžĐČшось ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșДт, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” просутстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ” Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐžĐœ таĐșжД ĐŸŃ‚Đșазал ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Ń„Đ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых Đž запрДтОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. На ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ°, ĐœĐžĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. ĐĄĐ”Đčчас ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ с ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž распраĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‡Đ°ĐŒĐž. Её Ń€Đ”ŃĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, слДгĐșа ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń… Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ? В Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДЎёт пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Дё ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” стала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃƒĐŒŃ‹ĐČать. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз зала Đž ĐČызĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоться ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. ĐœĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ запОсО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐČ, а Дё ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ стуĐșĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ĐČĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đž ŃƒĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ” успДла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ глаза, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Ń‰Đ”Đ»Ń‡ĐŸĐș ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ Дё ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. Â«ĐšŃ‚ĐŸ...» ĐĐ” успДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșаĐș Дё Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ». Куча ĐșĐ°ĐœŃ†Đ”Đ»ŃŃ€ŃĐșох ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč упала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Дё шДД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ!» - сĐČĐžŃ€Đ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОĐč. ДДĐČушĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń†Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČ Ń‚ŃƒŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ сĐČДтД, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ был ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. В ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃƒŃ…Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐžŃ… ĐČОтал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč запах жДлДза, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. Đ‘Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đž ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Ńƒ ĐČрача, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČОД. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ ĐœĐŸĐłŃƒ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ атаĐșĐŸĐČать ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČОЎДл Дё ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČал Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Ń‚ĐŸ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč сжал Дё ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ” Đž прОжал Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đ±Ń‘ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐŒĐž. ВЮруг ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆŃƒĐŒ ŃˆĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «БыстрДД, я ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃˆŃ‘Đ» сюЮа!» Đ”ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșроĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž, Đž это люЎО ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ. ОтчаяĐČшось, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° стала Đ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž была уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ту ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃƒ ĐŽĐČДрО, схĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ за ручĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐČ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Đș сДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐ”ŃŽ. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ŃŒÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё страх ĐœĐ” был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đœ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ŃˆŃƒĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ». Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ” ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” у сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ уха: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ за ŃŃ‚ĐŸÂ». Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ был ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐžĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ протĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ был ĐœĐž за Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° тут жД ŃĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**луД. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ох Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČуĐș. ĐžĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł бы ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ, ДслО бы люЎО за ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đž. «Ч*рт ĐČ*Đ·ŃŒĐŒĐž! Да ŃŃ‚ĐŸ жД ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ц**ующаяся ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸŃ‡Đșа. ЧуĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐčтД Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČДт Оз ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń пару. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, сĐșрыĐČая Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœŃ‹Ń… глаз ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ВОталОĐč. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒĐ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐŸĐș Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, я ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаюсь, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ хĐČатот сОл ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĐŸ, чуĐČаĐș, эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаёт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đ” Đ·ĐČуĐșĐž, а?» «ЗатĐșĐœĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčся! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ”, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы!» ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ… Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐżĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČатДлО ушлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃ‚Đž Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ… Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ОлО ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ Юруг Юруга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ прОлОĐČĐ” Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Ń…ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ±ŃƒĐœŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃĐșая жОлĐșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ”ĐČала. Đ”ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа жОла ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒŃŽ, ĐČсДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃŒ праĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз - Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы раз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČать ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐŸŃ‚Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐž запрДты Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžĐč, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Дё ĐČ Ń‰Ń‘Đșу. «Я проЮу за Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČсё Дщё ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. А Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃˆŃ‘Đ», таĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆŃ‘Đ». ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. ĐąĐžŃˆĐžĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒŃˆĐžĐ» Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Дё Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ лДжОт ĐœĐ° Đșраю ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° схĐČатОла Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” упал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€! - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -В Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ проĐČДзлО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČарою Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ» ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹Đ” траĐČĐŒŃ‹. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČы ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ŃŒ!» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń€ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ, я буЎу чДрДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đșу Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐŽĐČДрО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ был ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ сДĐčчас Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ОлО Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃŃ‚ĐČоях. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° проĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ эĐșŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž. Đ’Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ужД Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐžĐ»ŃŃ рассĐČДт. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČсё таĐș жД ĐłŃ€ŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. РуĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž ŃĐ¶Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșулаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČыЮаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста». Â«Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” я спраĐČĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ±ŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ, Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž. - Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČсё ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ?» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «ОĐč, я ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ох. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐžŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ. ĐŻ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐčЎу». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” прОЎала ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČДщО. ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа успДла ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐș Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ГлаĐČа 2 ЧуĐČстĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ‹ Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČрач, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, - сĐșазал ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. - Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐžŃ€Đ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° таблОчĐșу с ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ халатД ĐŻĐœŃ‹. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° была ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”. Â«ĐšŃƒĐŽĐ° ĐŒŃ‹ ĐžĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Дё ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ. ĐžĐœ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Дё за руĐșу Đž сĐșазал: Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ”. ĐĐ” застаĐČĐ»ŃĐčтД ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ” ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. ВОталОĐč сОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐŸŃ‰Đ°ĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ” Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž былО сĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœŃ‹ пДрДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč глаз Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ былО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. К счастью, рДзĐșĐžĐč запах ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ срДЎстĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, сĐșрыĐČал запах Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐžĐœ был ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐČ Ń‡ĐžŃŃ‚Ń‹Đč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč таĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł сĐșрыть ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ” ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČшОД бы ĐČсДх ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžŃ…. В Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОца чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ жёстĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń таĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°, Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń‹ĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎу, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ шутоть. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃƒ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ВОталОю ĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸ: Â«Đ’ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž с ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€ ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹, сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ сЎДлалО ĐČашО ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОД. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đž слДЎы Đž ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČсД ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” улОĐșĐž. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ĐČДрЎОл ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐŻ таĐșжД ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОл запОсО. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ‹ рДзĐșĐŸ пДрДхĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž Â«ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚Â». «Вы Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ВОталОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ‹ĐČая Дё с ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° тут жД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. «Да... Đ­-ŃŃ‚ĐŸ была ŃÂ», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń… ĐČĐŸĐčто ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đș ВОталОю ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу. Đ’Ń‹ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” застаĐČот ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ праĐșтоĐșĐž. И Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș таĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČсД ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃĐ»Đž Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœŃ‹ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń‹ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČут ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ° сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Ń‹ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ŃƒŃ‡Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ЕслО уж ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐż Đș Ń€Đ”ŃŃƒŃ€ŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐČŃĐ·Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆŃƒŃŽ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать тДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ты Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ЎажД браĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ прДрĐČал Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒ ĐŸ ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° жёстĐșую Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° сДбД прДЎстаĐČоть, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° с Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃˆŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČстал ВОталОĐč Đž Đ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃĐ° Юать Đ”Đč сĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐșŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ВОталОю ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. «В ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, Đž ĐČсё Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ Đž сĐșазал: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». Â«ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČДрОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ с ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‚ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ВОталОю. Â«ĐĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČы ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃŒ ужД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ браĐș яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ°ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃÂ». Đ“ŃƒĐ±Ń‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃ‘Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ браĐșĐ”, а Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ застаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. «йДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșу. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сĐșазал Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž тут жД Đ·Đ°ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ злОт Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃĐ° - ĐœĐŸĐČая ĐœĐ”ĐČДста ОлО Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰ĐžĐč за ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. Đ­ĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ… лДт, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČстрДтОла Дё ĐČ Ń„ĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČас ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла та. Её глаза былО ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃˆĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐžĐČать ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐČДрх Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃƒ. Её ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đș ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽŃ‹ĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Дё щёĐșĐž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ, ĐșаĐș бы спасаясь ĐŸŃ‚ трДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. Её чуĐČстĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ былО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, с Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” прДЎстаĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ был за Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. Đ‘ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ была Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. От ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” проĐČДлО ох Đș ĐœŃ‹ĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ, фаĐșт ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ фаĐșŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ВОталОĐč яĐČĐ»ŃŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ тут жД Đ·Đ°ŃŃƒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐ”Ń‘: «Вы ĐŸĐżŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ” таĐș сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ бы ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČтраĐșать?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚, я ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°ŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČрач, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ”ŃƒĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”Đč стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ВыпДĐčтД Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ”Â». Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. Â«ĐĐ” за Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ браĐș Đž был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ сĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșа. ДажД бДз Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČрач, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ЎДлаДт Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč уĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ”ĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° стаĐșĐ°Đœ ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°ĐœŃŒŃˆĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ заĐčто ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń†ĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń€. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč тДрапОО. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОла ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ХДрЎцД ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ страЎала ĐŸŃ‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșрОтОчДсĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. Đ•ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž была пДрДсаЎĐșа сДрЎца, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ бы ĐČ Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° браĐș, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃ‹Đ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃ€Đ° сДрЎца. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ: Â«ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ°, я Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡Ńƒ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń‰Đ°ŃŽÂ». Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Дё глаĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ‘Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșĐ°Ń€ĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ты ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ услугу». ГлаĐČа 3 Đ§Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœ был ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃˆĐ” Дё. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ был ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ эĐșŃĐżĐ”Ń€Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚Đž. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐž былО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «О ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč услугД оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ?» - ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐčся ĐČ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž я ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčшДД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃĐ”, Đž, ДслО ĐœĐ” счотать ĐŽĐČух ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° была праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Да, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ. КуЮа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃˆŃƒ тДбД аЎрДс. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€Ń‘ŃˆŃŒŃŃ туЮа, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты прОДхала Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃƒ ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. «Ещё ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐœ стал ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. - НоĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč Đ»ĐžŃˆĐœĐžŃ… ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. Всё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°Â». Â«ĐŻŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČызĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ раĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°Ń‰Ń‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐœŃ. КаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ†ĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Дё ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș прОгласОл ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐ”ĐœŃŒĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ. ЧДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сотуацоя ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ была ŃŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. ĐžĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃ. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”, ĐČы » - ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. Из уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ужД сЎДлала ĐČыĐČĐŸĐŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃ‡Đ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșу. Đ‘Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ была ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚Đ”Ń‚Đ”. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЎа», - сĐșазала ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ĐœĐ° аптДчĐșу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎДржала: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» «Да, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșцоо. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ĐČсё ĐČ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ„ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐœĐ” пДрДЎал бы сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” заслужОĐČаДт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐžŃ ОлО ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚Đ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ утĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČёл Дё ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń€ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃˆĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДрх ĐżĐŸ Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžŃ†Đ” ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. В ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «КаĐș я буЎу ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз сĐČДта?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ схĐČатОл сĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. «ВĐșлючО сĐČДт», - проĐșазал ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ тĐșĐ°ĐœŃŒ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ щёлĐșĐœŃƒĐ» ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ залОл ярĐșĐžĐč сĐČДт. ĐŸĐ”Ń€ĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° был ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”Đč. ĐžĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, Đ»Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато, чья Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșа была ĐČ ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń… ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐŸŃ…ŃˆĐ”Đč ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐČЎаĐČаться ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐČыЮаĐČать сĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ уĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°ĐŒĐž разрДзала Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșу ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐżĐŸĐșрыты Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń€Đ»Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČсё Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, уĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° праĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ŃĐ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐČ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. Всё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ былО Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”ĐșтоĐČĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. Â«Đ•ŃŃ‚ŃŒ лО у ĐČас Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”Ń€ĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° чДрДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. К счастью, Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ былО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČрДЎОлО Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆŃƒŃŽ часть ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ†Đ”ŃŃ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ рДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ с Дё Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ВОталОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Дё. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚Â», - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ…ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ Дё ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ»Đ° Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Дё ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг Ń€Đ°Đœ. Đ˜ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ пару ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČОД прДпарата, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° шĐČы. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ чДрДз час ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† заĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ°. В Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ Đž ŃƒŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” руĐșĐž Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃƒŃŽÂ». «Вы ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚Đ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать ту, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·ŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° пДрĐČыĐč ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ заĐșрыл ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đș ВОталОю. «Я ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃ‚Ń‹, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČшОД ĐœĐ° ĐČас ĐČчДра, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ°ŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ ОзбаĐČоться ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČас, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČы ĐČычОслОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČашДĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - сĐșазал Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, усажОĐČаясь, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș Đșраю ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато Đž ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐžĐœ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ» ŃĐ»Đ°Đ±Ń‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃ‹Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ блДсĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° пДрДĐČёл ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșа. «Эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč я был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒŃƒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: Â«ĐĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐžĐŒ Ń‚Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČыЮать сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŽĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ за Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐ°Ń‚Ń€ĐžĐČал ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃƒĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃŽ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚Đ°. Đ”ĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». Â«ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” пДрДстаёт ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ уЎОĐČĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșажЎыĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт», - сĐșазал ВОталОĐč. За ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃƒŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČоя Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‚ĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Đœ Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃ. «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ°Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»Ń‹Đč бар "ĐšĐ°Ń€ĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»ĐžŃ†Đ” АрбатсĐșĐ°ŃÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ВОталОĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсё ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» с ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Да, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Đșлуб стал ох Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž ДслО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃ€ĐŸŃŽŃ‚, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ проЮётся ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń‚ŃƒĐłĐŸÂ», - сĐșазал Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒÂ», - сĐșазал ВОталОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ стал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșтаĐČу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° спусĐșĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу Đ·Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Дё ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”Đșта: «ЕслО ĐČы рассĐșажДтД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ, ĐČас ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń‚ŃŒÂ», - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ЕслО ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ… ĐŸ траĐČĐŒĐ°Ń… Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčЮёт ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‹ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·Ńƒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°: «Я ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ уĐčЎу». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ у ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČДрО. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐșОД плДчО Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒŃŽ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃƒ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. «Вы разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ушлО?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃ‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČал Дё ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу. КаĐș бы Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČать, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐŸĐČал Дё. ГлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșа ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. КаĐș бы Ń‚Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČсё жД была ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐŸĐŒ. Â«Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐž Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹. Đ”Đ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒĐčтД ох раз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹Â». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла Đ±ŃƒŃ‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸŃ‡Đșу с таблДтĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž тюбОĐș с ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу. «Я ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ это лДĐșарстĐČа». ВОталОĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” сĐșазала Đž ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ жД ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ужД ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ†Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČую, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ пДрДĐșусоть. ЕЮĐČа ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐČшось за сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Дё ĐČызĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚ глаĐČĐČрача. «Я ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐŻĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșу», - сĐșазал глаĐČĐČрач Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° была ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐĐŸ я ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы ужД Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоть ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Â«ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, я уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”Đœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČсё ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń…ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐ”Đč "ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚". ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐżĐŸĐčто ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‰Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœĐž Đž былО ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń… Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸ тДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ХДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐșаĐș?» «Да, Đ±ĐŸŃŽŃŃŒ, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹ руĐșĐž. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ…, ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČрач Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ срДЎО сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… сĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč этоĐșĐ”. ГлаĐČĐČрач Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžĐ» Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČсДх ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Ń…. «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° сДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° сДбД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐœĐ” ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ расстраоĐČаться Оз-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČа Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ĐžĐœ был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° рассчотыĐČать ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” Дщё ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČоться Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐżĐŸĐčЎу», - ŃĐŒĐžŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ сĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сотуацою. ГлаĐČĐČрач ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ», ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° с ŃĐœŃ‚ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ, пытаясь ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžŃŽ, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșую Ń„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒŃƒ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐČ ĐČĐČДрх, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐżĐ»ŃŽŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐ». Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: «ЗЎраĐČстĐČуĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐžĐČДтстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ярĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ. - бы сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ? ĐŸĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒ ŃƒĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ИзĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ЎДла, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” была ĐČ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžŃ… ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ… с ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐž былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ОбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ жД ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДт ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž Ń‚ĐŸ жД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Ещё Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° была Ń‚ĐŸĐč Дщё штучĐșĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐ° была ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃ†ĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐŸĐČаться Đž проĐČлДĐșать ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”Đ” ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽŃŒ, ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đž была ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž былО Đ°Đ±ŃĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃ‚ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. ĐŸĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ лаЎОлО. «О, ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, - сĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - Đ’ĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”-Ń‚ĐŸ я Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČстала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ шĐșафчоĐșу, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ халат. Â«Đ“ĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžÂ», - сĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃƒ. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ фаĐșт, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° таĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŻĐœŃ‹. «йы, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ўа? ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€â€ŠÂ» «Всё ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșД», - пДрДбОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Дщё ĐœĐ” ĐČсё сĐșазала Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «И Дщё, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșрДтД Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ты ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? Đ—ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу я ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°ŃŽŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Â». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŻĐœŃ‹ была ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” сĐșажу». В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. Đ’Ń€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сталĐșĐžĐČаться с Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž чрДзĐČычаĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. На Ń‚Đ”Ń€Ń€ĐžŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ сОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была пропарĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° у ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚. Â«ĐŃƒ, - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ, - Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ†Đ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč сОЎДл ВОталОĐč, ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșу ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃ. ĐžĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČрачД, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč лДчОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž былО Дё ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČоя. На ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° был ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Дё ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃĐŒĐž. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ’ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČЮруг Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» стДĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Đ‘Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐŸĐœ сĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ° Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ” Дё?» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ заблДстДл ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа. Â«ĐžĐœĐ° была ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃˆĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД». ВОталОю ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, эта ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ спасла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДчОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹? Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃƒĐŽŃŒĐ±Đ°?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ’ŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Юать Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃƒ ŃˆĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČь? «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта ты ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‘ŃˆŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшось, пДрДĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ с ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” захĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” аĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- 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
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 😍Read the next chapters👉 Chapter 1 Lottie’s 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. “You think? ” her li-p twisted into a smile, I knew she was satisfied with my answer. “Yes!” 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 Lilly’s 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!" Mike’s 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. “Babygirl..." 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! “ 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! 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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 â€ïžđŸ˜ click to read on 👉 Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s 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 mother’s 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-husband’s 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!' Riley’s 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
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 đŸ”„đŸ”„Click to read the next chapter for free👉 "Where's the patient's husband? Why hasn't he come yet? If he doesn't sign soon, it'll be too late,” a doctor urged. "The patient's husband refuses to come. He said to let her fend for herself,” 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
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 Read next chapter👉 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, Mitchel’s 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 it’s 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 Raegan’s 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
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 shgjfh.com DCO https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464213855_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
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 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? Él siempre guarda para mĂ­ la parte mĂĄs jugosa de una sandĂ­a". "Incluso cuando llega tarde a casa, siempre me trae algo". "ÂĄY miren esta sorpresa! RecogiĂł de la iglesia un amuleto de bendiciĂłn para mĂ­". ...... El nombre de usuario era "Cuenta Regresiva Hacia la Muerte", la Ășnica cuenta a la que Joelle seguĂ­a. Justo cuando reflexionaba sobre el siniestro nombre, la puerta del baño se abriĂł. En la habitaciĂłn poco iluminada apareciĂł Adrian. Gotas de agua caĂ­an de su cabello. A pesar de la tenue iluminaciĂłn, sus atractivos rasgos permanecĂ­an intactos. Joelle cerrĂł instintivamente su celular y le dio una mirada reflexiva. HacĂ­a mucho tiempo desde la Ășltima vez que lo vio. Esa noche Ă©l no estaba ahĂ­ por decisiĂłn propia. Su abuela, Irene Miller, estaba enferma y, como querĂ­a un bisnieto con desesperaciĂłn, lo obligĂł a regresar. De lo contrario, tal vez nunca hubiera venido. Durante sus tres años de matrimonio, Adrian pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo en Villas Oak, por lo que rara vez estaba en casa. Todos sabĂ­an que en realidad no amaba a Joelle. Estaba atrapada en un matrimonio por conveniencia. "Solo te voy a dar una oportunidad. El destino dirĂĄ si quedas e**arazada o no", declarĂł Adrian con una voz resonante. ÂżQuĂ© querĂ­a decir? Antes de que Joelle pudiera seguir pensando, Adrian la agarrĂł del tobillo y la atrajo hacia Ă©l. Joelle palideciĂł ante su crueldad, su cuerpo se tensĂł de miedo. "ÂĄAdrian! Basta, no quiero...". EmpezĂł a luchar frenĂ©ticamente. Era una completa humillaciĂłn verse obligada a vivir en esa situaciĂłn con el hombre que amaba. Adrian hizo una mueca de desprecio. "Te atreviste a diseño una vez, asĂ­ que debiste haberlo visto venir. Solo aguĂĄntalo". Ante esas duras palabras, los ojos de Joelle se llenaron de lĂĄgrimas y sus pestañas bailaron como mariposas heridas. Mirando su rostro severo, dijo con voz temblorosa: "Las cosas no fueron lo que imaginabas..." Pero sus protestas fueron interrumpidas. Su resistencia se desvaneciĂł a medida que la desesperaciĂłn se apoderaba de ella. "Has aprendido que hacerte la difĂ­cil es mucho mĂĄs interesante que quedarse tirada como un pez muerto", comentĂł con rencor. DespuĂ©s de ducharse, se marchĂł sin mirar atrĂĄs, como si no quisiera quedarse mĂĄs tiempo ahĂ­. Joelle no entendĂ­a quĂ© papel tenĂ­a en su vida. ÂżSolo era un juguete para su placer? ÂżO una herramienta para cumplir las expectativas de su familia de tener un heredero? La ventana estaba completamente abierta, por lo que entraba un gĂ©lido y cortante viento. A Joelle se le erizaron los pelos de la nuca y se arropĂł mĂĄs con su manta. No solo temblaba de frĂ­o, sino que sentĂ­a su corazĂłn desgarrado, ahora no conocĂ­a en absoluto al hombre que habĂ­a adorado durante casi ocho años. Tres años atrĂĄs, en un lujoso banquete organizado por la familia Miller, Joelle bebiĂł demasiado. Cuando se despertĂł, en la con Adrian. Antes de que pudiera asimilar lo que estaba pasando, su hermano y varios miembros de su familia irrumpieron. Ya no podĂ­a revertir lo sucedido. La abuela de Adrian tomĂł las riendas y organizĂł su matrimonio. Desde entonces, Ă©l estaba convencido de que Joelle lo habĂ­a hecho a propĂłsito. A ella le desconcertaba su profunda animosidad, por mĂĄs que creyera que lo habĂ­a d**gado. DespuĂ©s de todo, habĂ­an crecido juntos. Pero ahora lo entendĂ­a todo. Para Ă©l, ella no era mĂĄs que la nefasta mujer que habĂ­a saboteado su relaciĂłn con Rebecca. A menudo pensaba en lo perfecto que Ă©l se veĂ­a en los videos de Rebecca, siempre tan gentil y atento. Probablemente nunca le mostrarĂ­a esa misma ternura. No pudo contener mĂĄs las lĂĄgrimas y sucumbiĂł a un ataque de sollozos. Esa noche no pudo dormir bien. Tuvo sueños sobre el pasado, cuando ella y Adrian no estaban en malos tĂ©rminos. Debido a su angustia, Joelle se levantĂł inusualmente temprano. DespuĂ©s de lavarse, se puso ropa de casa y bajĂł las escaleras. Leah Jenkins, la empleada domĂ©stica con muchos años de servicio, la vio bajar y rĂĄpidamente puso la mesa con el desayuno, ya que conocĂ­a sus preferencias dietĂ©ticas. Joelle se tomĂł su tiempo para comer lentamente. "Señora Miller, Âżpor quĂ© anoche no convenciĂł a su esposo para que se quedara? No viene a casa a menudo", comentĂł Leah con simpatĂ­a. HabĂ­a sido sirvienta de la familia Miller durante muchos años, por lo que habĂ­a visto cĂłmo los dos se convertĂ­an de amigos de la infancia a enemigos. Joelle se mostrĂł incĂłmoda, pero lo ocultĂł con una sonrisa serena. "Lo intentĂ©, pero no quiso quedarse". Incluso si pudiera mantener a Adrian cerca, Ă©l tenĂ­a el corazĂłn en otra parte. MĂĄs concretamente, en Villas Oak, el hogar de la mujer que realmente amaba. Leah dudĂł y agregĂł con cautela: "Tal vez sea porque el señor Miller estĂĄ muy ocupado con la empresa. Dirigir una compañía tan grande requiere mucho tiempo". Tres años atrĂĄs, le habĂ­an reasignado para cuidar de Joelle, asĂ­ que entendĂ­a los entresijos de ese matrimonio mejor que nadie. Su perspicacia trajo consigo una sincera simpatĂ­a hacia ella. Las pestañas de Joelle temblaron mientras mordisqueaba su tostada. Sus ojos se llenaron de lĂĄgrimas debido a la tensiĂłn emocional. SĂ­, Adrian estaba muy ocupado, pero siempre tenĂ­a tiempo para Rebecca. Frecuentaba la Iglesia RedenciĂłn en busca de un amuleto de bendiciĂłn para ella. A pesar de su apretada agenda, siempre pasaba las vacaciones con ella. De repente, su celular rompiĂł el silencio. Cuando Leah saliĂł del comedor, Joelle agarrĂł el dispositivo y vio que era una llamada de su mejor amiga, Katherine Nash. "Katherine, quiero el divorcio", confesĂł con voz ronca. CapĂ­tulo 2 En declive Joelle habĂ­a tomado una decisiĂłn: querĂ­a el divorcio. No tenĂ­a sentido seguir alargĂĄndolo. Tras un silencio atĂłnito, Katherine soltĂł una estridente carcajada. "ÂżTe quedarĂĄs con la mitad de los bienes de Adrian? ÂĄOh, por Dios! ÂĄJoelle, te convertirĂĄs en una multimillonaria!". "No, no serĂĄ asĂ­". Joelle habĂ­a firmado un acuerdo cuando se casĂł con Adrian. Si se divorciaban, ella no recibirĂ­a nada. "Entonces, Âżpor quĂ© te estĂĄs divorciando? ÂĄTienes que seguir siendo su esposa!". Joelle recordĂł la brutalidad de Adrian la noche anterior, asĂ­ como la humillaciĂłn posterior. HabĂ­a sido muy ingenua al creer que su amor por Ă©l la ayudarĂ­a a soportar cualquier dificultad. Pero ahora sabĂ­a que habĂ­a sido una completa tonta. ÂżEl sufrimiento hacĂ­a que Adrian la amara mĂĄs? Claro que no. Para empezar, un hombre que realmente la amara nunca le harĂ­a sufrir. Joelle se rio de sĂ­ misma y cambiĂł de tema: "Por cierto, Âżrecuerdas el favor que te pedĂ­?". "SĂ­, justo te iba a contar eso. Me pediste que estuviera atenta a un trabajo, y tengo algo para ti. Vas a enseñar a un estudiante a tocar el violĂ­n, aunque debo decir que serĂĄ un desperdicio de tu talento". "EstĂĄ bien", respondiĂł Joelle con una leve sonrisa. "No serĂĄ un desperdicio en absoluto. Llevo tres años siendo ama de casa. Es suficiente con que alguien quiera contratarme". "ÂżCĂłmo que no serĂĄ un desperdicio? Casi formaste parte de una orquesta internacional. Si no fuera por el matrimonio
". Katherine se quedĂł en silencio, demasiado indignada por su amiga. DespuĂ©s de su boda, a Joelle ni siquiera le permitieron trabajar. Las familias adineradas se aferraban a esas reglas obsoletas. Era bastante ridĂ­culo. HacĂ­a tres años, la carrera de Joelle como violinista despegaba. Pero las estrictas tradiciones de la familia Miller le prohibĂ­an tocar en pĂșblico. El primer dĂ­a de su matrimonio, la madre de Adrian le dijo: "No tienes que trabajar. Adrian te proveerĂĄ en todo lo que necesites. Tu Ășnico trabajo es tener bebĂ©s y cuidar a tu esposo". Una vez que terminĂł su llamada con Katherine, Joelle subiĂł las escaleras y fue al estudio para agarrar su violĂ­n abandonado. HabĂ­a sido un regalo especial de su padre en su decimoctavo cumpleaños. No obstante, poco despuĂ©s de recibirlo, este sufriĂł un derrame cerebral y cayĂł en coma. Su hermano mayor terminĂł asumiendo la responsabilidad de sustentar a la familia, asĂ­ que la dejĂł perseguir su sueño de tocar el violĂ­n. Mientras recordaba el pasado, Joelle moviĂł el arco sobre las cuerdas. Años atrĂĄs, un accidente le habĂ­a lesionado la muñeca y desde entonces no habĂ­a vuelto a tocar. A pesar del dolor agudo que sentĂ­a en esa zona mientras tocaba, no se detuvo y confiĂł en su memoria muscular para tocar una pieza corta. Al final, soltĂł una risa amarga. Sonaba horrible. De repente, escuchĂł la alegre voz de Leah en la puerta. "ÂĄSeñor, ha regresado!". Estaba secretamente aliviada de ver a Adrian, ya que eso tal vez significaba que todavĂ­a se preocupaba por Joelle. QuizĂĄs si ella le decĂ­a algo amable, su relaciĂłn podrĂ­a mejorar. Por su parte, Joelle estaba sorprendida. Adrian rara vez venĂ­a a casa durante el dĂ­a. Apenas habĂ­a dejado el violĂ­n cuando se abriĂł la puerta. AhĂ­ estaba la alta e imponente figura de su esposo. Sus ojos la recorrieron con el ceño fruncido. Recordaba que Joelle habĂ­a aprendido a tocar el violĂ­n cuando era niña y que un reconocido profesor la habĂ­a elogiado por su talento. Sin embargo, por alguna razĂłn, habĂ­a dejado de tocar. HacĂ­a un momento, la habĂ­a escuchado desde afuera y le pareciĂł una interpretaciĂłn mediocre. ÂżCĂłmo era posible que la elogiara por su talento? Joelle lo mirĂł y bajĂł la cabeza para volver a guardar el violĂ­n en su estuche. "ÂżQuĂ© te trae por aquĂ­?", murmurĂł. "ÂżNecesitas algo?". "Vine a recoger algo y recordarte que mañana tenemos que visitar a la abuela", respondiĂł Ă©l frĂ­amente. Era una regla familia visitar a su abuela al menos una vez al mes, y mañana era el dĂ­a. De no ser por esa obligaciĂłn, Adrian no habrĂ­a regresado. Irene se enfadarĂ­a si no iban juntos. Joelle sonriĂł con amargura. Recordaba las normas de los Miller mejor que Adrian y siempre las cumplĂ­a. Ni siquiera Irene, tan estricta como siempre, podĂ­a encontrarle defectos. "No lo he olvidado, me alegra que tĂș tampoco lo hayas hecho", respondiĂł. Su tono acusatorio hizo que Adrian pusiera una mueca. Una ira latente empezĂł a hervir dentro de Ă©l. Sin decir nada mĂĄs, se dirigiĂł al vestidor para buscar algo. Aunque Ă©l no solĂ­a estar en casa, Joelle aseaba meticulosamente su guardarropa, por lo que tenĂ­a la ropa lavada, planchada y ordenada. Era como si su papel se redujera a realizar las tareas del hogar, algo que Leah tambiĂ©n podĂ­a hacer. Su Ășnica ventaja, tal vez, era ser mĂĄs joven y mĂĄs guapa que Leah. Sus ojos siguieron los movimientos de Adrian. TenĂ­a el dedo anular desnudo, sin el anillo de bodas. Una punzada de dolor le atravesĂł el corazĂłn. "Adrian, hay que divorciarnos", declarĂł con una voz tan suave como la brisa. HabĂ­a agotado todas sus fuerzas al pronunciar esas palabras, pero se sintiĂł extrañamente aliviada. Adrian se dio la vuelta y la mirĂł con una sonrisa burlona. "Tienes que pensar muy bien antes de hablar. La familia Watson estĂĄ en declive. Sin mi apoyo, Âżvas a dormir en la calle con tu hermano?". Desde la caĂ­da de la familia Watson, Joelle pasĂł de ser amada a quedar en ridĂ­culo. La familia Miller la despreciaba y la miraba por encima del hombro, como si ella y su hermano fueran sanguijuelas de las que no podĂ­an librarse. Incluso sus momentos Ă­ntimos con Adrian la hacĂ­an sentir degradada. Joelle se mordiĂł el labio y se enderezĂł. "Ya he alquilado un apartamento. Incluso si terminara durmiendo en la calle, es asunto mĂ­o". Solo querĂ­a que su esposo la respetara, pero tres años de cautiverio la habĂ­an dejado sin orgullo ni dignidad. "ÂżY de dĂłnde sacaste el dinero para alquilar un apartamento? Si tanto querĂ­as ser independiente, no deberĂ­as haber gastado ni un solo centavo de mi familia". De espaldas a ella, Adrian encontrĂł entre unos muebles el anillo de bodas perdido y lo sostuvo en la palma de su mano. Joelle no se dio cuenta. Las palabras de ese hombre la dejaron sin aliento. SĂ­, habĂ­a utilizado sus escasos ahorros para alquilar el apartamento. Pero como estaba casada con Adrian, Âżlo que era suyo no era tambiĂ©n de Ă©l? AdemĂĄs, el apoyo financiero que Adrian les habĂ­a dado a los Watson durante todos esos años ascendĂ­a a una suma significativa. Joelle siempre habĂ­a despreciado la idea de deberle algo, pero su deuda con Ă©l era infinita. Si se divorciaban, tal vez dejarĂ­a de darle apoyo financiero a la familia Watson. ÂżEstaba sugiriendo que ella debĂ­a salir del matrimonio con las manos vacĂ­as? Cuando Adrian se dio la vuelta para irse, Joelle dijo con una dignidad apenas intacta: "Tengo derecho legĂ­timo a este matrimonio y a reclamar lo que supuestamente es mĂ­o. Pero no te preocupes, no pedirĂ© mucho, solo lo suficiente para ayudar al Grupo Watson a superar esta crisis". Adrian se quedĂł paralizado y su mirada se agudizĂł. Sus labios formaron una fina lĂ­nea mientras apretaba la mandĂ­bula. Eran claras señales de su creciente furia. Aunque Joelle ya se habĂ­a preparado mentalmente, no podĂ­a soportar su intensidad. Cada segundo bajo su mirada severa la ponĂ­a mĂĄs ansiosa. De repente, sonĂł el celular de Adrian, quien lo sacĂł de su bolsillo y estuvo a punto de alejarse. "ÂĄAdrian!". CapĂ­tulo 3 Siempre mantendrĂ© la cabeza en alto La frustraciĂłn de Adrian crepitaba como estĂĄtica. "Si tu hermano necesita dinero, dile que vaya al Grupo Miller". "ÂĄNo se trata de eso!", replicĂł Joelle. La habĂ­a malinterpretado por completo. Con el corazĂłn latiendo con urgencia, corriĂł tras Ă©l. "ÂĄAdrian, quiero el divorcio!". Adrian dejĂł de subir las escaleras y girĂł la cabeza. El celular en su mano habĂ­a dejado de sonar. Con un metro noventa de altura, se alzaba sobre ella. "Joelle, Âżno se te ocurre un mejor juego que este interminable tira y afloja?", preguntĂł burlonamente con una mirada gĂ©lida. "Si de verdad quieres divorciarte, Âżpor quĂ© no se lo dices tĂș misma a la abuela? ÂĄNo quiero volver a escucharte pronunciar esa palabra!". La puerta se cerrĂł de golpe detrĂĄs de Ă©l, haciendo eco a su irrevocable decisiĂłn. Joelle se apoyĂł contra la pared y sus piernas cedieron hasta que se deslizĂł al suelo. Una risa amarga emergiĂł de sus labios. Irene habĂ­a organizado su matrimonio. Adrian se habĂ­a visto obligado a aceptar, y Joelle lo sabĂ­a muy bien. Si de verdad querĂ­a el divorcio, lo mĂĄs efectivo serĂ­a hablar con Irene. Sin embargo, una pequeña y estĂșpida parte de ella se habĂ­a aferrado a la esperanza de que ella y Adrian eran una verdadera pareja. Por eso se lo habĂ­a mencionado primero a Ă©l, porque lo veĂ­a como su esposo. Sin embargo, olvidĂł un detalle crucial: Adrian nunca habĂ­a querido casarse con ella. Su reticencia habĂ­a sido evidente desde el principio, aunque ella habĂ­a intentado pasarla por alto. Sus Ășltimas palabras no solo fueron despectivas, sino una orden. Si de verdad querĂ­a el divorcio, deberĂ­a enfrentarse a Irene. Joelle se dio una ducha, se puso ropa limpia y se preparĂł para visitar a la anciana. Irene era estricta, autoritaria y temida por toda la familia. Gobernaba con puño de hierro y no toleraba la desobediencia. Pero Joelle tenĂ­a un vĂ­nculo muy especial con ella. En parte, habĂ­a aceptado casarse con Adrian para cumplir las expectativas de Irene. QuerĂ­a cuidar de Adrian, construir un hogar y asegurarse de que la anciana falleciera sin remordimientos. Pero ahora ya no aguantaba mĂĄs. Ver a Adrian tan preocupado por otra mujer le llenaba de una amargura que parecĂ­a consumirla. Era consciente de que Ă©l no la amaba. ÂĄNunca lo hizo y nunca lo harĂ­a! Estaba a punto de irse cuando sonĂł su celular. Era su hermano, Shawn Watson. "ÂżShawn? ÂżQuĂ© ocurre?". "ÂĄSeñora Miller!". Era el asistente de Shawn. Su voz sonaba muy asustada, algo que Joelle nunca habĂ­a escuchado. Se le helĂł la s**gre y agarrĂł el celular con mĂĄs fuerza mientras permanecĂ­a en la escalera. "ÂżDĂłnde estĂĄ mi hermano? ÂżQuĂ© le pasĂł?". "Anoche el señor Watson asistiĂł a una reuniĂłn de negocios, donde lo presionaron para que b*iera. Supuestamente volverĂ­a a casa, pero Erick Lloyd insistiĂł en llevarlo a unas aguas termales". Joelle se quedĂł congelada y la furia recorriĂł sus venas. "ÂżErick no sabĂ­a que eso podrĂ­a matarlo?". "ÂĄErick es un s**vergĂŒenza! Se jacta de su poder desde que su padre y su hermano se volvieron chĂłferes de la familia Miller. ÂĄSeñora Miller, tiene que venir rĂĄpido! El señor Watson estĂĄ siendo operado y los mĂ©dicos han emitido dos avisos de condiciĂłn crĂ­tica. ÂĄNo pude aguantar mĂĄs, asĂ­ que la llamĂ©!". El asistente parecĂ­a estar al borde de las lĂĄgrimas. Joelle sabĂ­a que Ă©l no se habrĂ­a puesto en contacto con ella a menos que la situaciĂłn fuera bastante desesperada. Shawn siempre la habĂ­a protegido de las malas noticias, sin importar lo sombrĂ­as que fueran las circunstancias. Si su asistente estaba tan conmocionado, la vida de su hermano debĂ­a estar en peligro. Joelle sintiĂł como si el mundo se cerrara a su alrededor y un nudo se formĂł en su garganta. Al bajar del Ășltimo escalĂłn, tropezĂł y se cayĂł con fuerza, torciĂ©ndose bruscamente el tobillo. El dolor abrasador la devolviĂł a la realidad y las lĂĄgrimas brotaron de sus ojos. "ÂĄOh, no, señora Miller, tenga mĂĄs cuidado cuando camina!". Leah corriĂł a ayudarla a levantarse. Joelle agarrĂł el brazo de Leah con la visiĂłn borrosa a causa de las lĂĄgrimas. IntentĂł hablar, pero las palabras le salĂ­an entrecortadas porque estaba sollozando. "Mi hermano... ÂĄTengo que ir al hospital para verlo!". Leah sintiĂł su urgencia y respondiĂł sin dudar: "De acuerdo, no se preocupe. ÂĄLe pedirĂ© al conductor que la lleve de inmediato!". Leah era una criada experimentada y confiable que llevaba años al servicio de la familia Miller. Cinco minutos despuĂ©s, el auto ya estaba aparcado delante de la villa. Joelle estaba a punto de subir cuando se volviĂł hacia Leah. "Por favor, no se lo cuentes a Irene. No quiero preocuparla". El corazĂłn de la criada se ablandĂł. Incluso con el rostro pĂĄlido y surcado de lĂĄgrimas, Joelle se preocupaba por la salud de Irene. ÂĄQuĂ© muchacha tan rara y extraordinaria! "No se preocupe, señora Miller. Yo sĂ© quĂ© hacer. Vaya a ver a su hermano". Cuando Joelle llegĂł al hospital, Shawn acababa de salir del quirĂłfano. Al ver a su jefe conectado a tubos y cables, el asistente casi se desplomĂł. Joelle se acercĂł y lo encontrĂł arrodillado contra la pared, con los ojos hundidos e inyectados en s**gre. Tuvo que contener el impulso de regañarlo por no haber protegido mejor a su hermano. MĂĄs tarde habrĂ­a tiempo para eso. Cuando la condiciĂłn de Shawn fue mĂĄs estable, Joelle llevĂł al asistente a un lado. "CuĂ©ntamelo todo. ÂżCĂłmo ocurriĂł esto?". El asistente vacilĂł, con el rostro desencajado. "Señora Miller, el señor Watson nos ordenĂł especĂ­ficamente que no la involucremos en los asuntos comerciales". "Pero esto es una cuestiĂłn de vida o muerte. ÂżPiensas que todavĂ­a es una opciĂłn no decirme nada?". Ya sin paciencia, Joelle se dio la vuelta para alejarse. "Señora Miller, eso no sirve de nada", respondiĂł el asistente desesperadamente. "Usted sabe que desde la muerte de su padre, el Grupo Watson ha dependido por completo de su hermano. Ha estado luchando para defender la dignidad de la familia, porque quiere que su vida con los Miller sea mĂĄs llevadera". Durante esos años, Shawn habĂ­a luchado valientemente para mantener a la familia a flote. No obstante, sin el apoyo financiero de Adrian, sus esfuerzos se habrĂ­an desvanecido hacĂ­a mucho tiempo. Su deseo mĂĄs profundo era que su hermana viviera cĂłmodamente, pero a pesar de sus incansables esfuerzos, nunca pudo hacerle ganar el respeto que merecĂ­a por parte de su esposo. No importaba lo mucho que se sacrificara, ella seguirĂ­a siendo infravalorada en la familia Miller. Joelle estaba hirviendo de rabia, pero sabĂ­a que no podĂ­a cambiar su realidad. Entonces, inspirĂł profundamente y preguntĂł: "ÂżNo mencionaron mi relaciĂłn con Adrian?" Esperaba que alinearse con los Miller pudiera ayudar a Shawn a mantenerse firme en sus actividades sociales. "El señor Watson se niega a tocar ese tema, pues teme que eso le haga las cosas mĂĄs difĂ­ciles a usted". Joelle soltĂł una risa amarga. JamĂĄs habĂ­a estado en igualdad de condiciones con Adrian. No le extrañaba que la despreciara, ya que apenas podĂ­a soportarse a sĂ­ misma. Solo hacĂ­a una hora que le habĂ­a pedido el divorcio. Y ahora se aferraba al nombre de su esposo, desesperada por facilitarle la vida a su hermano. "Dile a Shawn que soy la esposa de Adrian Miller, Irene me eligiĂł personalmente. ÂĄMientras sea la señora Miller, mantendrĂ© la cabeza en alto dentro de la familia!". De repente, escucharon unos pasos detrĂĄs de ella. Joelle se dio la vuelta y vio a Adrian, que tenĂ­a una sonrisa frĂ­a en su rostro. A su lado, se encontraba una muchacha de aspecto frĂĄgil, con grandes ojos inocentes, aferrada a Ă©l. Adrian la miraba desdeñosamente, como si incluso le costara reconocer su presencia. Ya se habĂ­a dado cuenta de que ella realmente no querĂ­a el divorcio. La mujer que habĂ­a parecido tan decidida a irse, ahora estaba haciendo alarde de su tĂ­tulo como la señora Miller. Su amenaza de divorcio no habĂ­a sido mĂĄs que una estrategia, como una pelea de amantes que terminaba en amenazas vacĂ­as. Era tan astuta que lo habĂ­a d**gado para obligarlo a casarse. Con tĂĄcticas tan engañosas, ÂżcĂłmo podrĂ­a irse tan fĂĄcilmente? Su matrimonio eran un salvavidas para las dificultades de su familia. Adrian le daba cien millones cada año al Grupo Watson. Joelle serĂ­a una tonta si se arriesgaba a perderlo divorciĂĄndose de Ă©l. CapĂ­tulo 4 Por fin se dio cuenta HacĂ­a mucho que Joelle se habĂ­a vuelto insensible ante la indiferencia de Adrian. ObservĂł sin decir nada los brazos entrelazados de la pareja y recordĂł los dulces momentos capturados en los videos de Rebecca, que provocaban la envidia de mucha gente. ÂĄQuĂ© pareja tan perfecta! Ese pensamiento la golpeĂł. "ÂĄJoelle, por favor, no nos malinterpretes!", dijo Rebecca con urgencia mientras retiraba su mano del brazo de Adrian. "No me siento bien y no puedo caminar, asĂ­ que Adie simplemente tuvo la amabilidad de sostenerme". Joelle esbozĂł una leve sonrisa. "ÂżQuĂ© te trae al hospital?", preguntĂł mirando a Adrian, como si no hubiera escuchado la explicaciĂłn de Rebecca. "Es por Erick", dijo Rebecca, con las manos entrelazadas como una niña arrepentida. "TambiĂ©n vine a pedirte perdĂłn, Joelle. Lamento que Erick haya sido tan descuidado para provocar que tu hermano terminara en el hospital". "ÂżDescuidado?", replicĂł ella. "Tu hermano casi m*ta al mĂ­o, Âży crees que una disculpa bastarĂĄ para arreglarlo?". Rebecca se estremeciĂł y agarrĂł la manga de Adrian en busca de apoyo. "Ya es suficiente, Joelle", respondiĂł Ă©l con una voz tan gĂ©lida como el invierno. "No fue a propĂłsito". Luego, se volviĂł hacia Rebecca y agregĂł suavemente: "Vamos, Âżno viniste para ver a Erick?". Fue entonces cuando Joelle lo entendiĂł todo. HabĂ­a esperado ingenuamente que Adrian viniera para ver a Shawn. Pero no, habĂ­a venido con Rebecca para ver a Erick. Incluso si visitara a Shawn, serĂ­a por obligaciĂłn, nada mĂĄs. Pero sabĂ­a que no debĂ­a esperar que Ă©l la defendiera. "ÂĄRebecca, no olvidarĂ© lo que hizo Erick!", espetĂł. Rebecca doblĂł las piernas y se desplomĂł sobre el pecho de Adrian, quien la atrapĂł justo a tiempo y la abrazĂł con fuerza. "Joelle, Erick no tenĂ­a malas intenciones. ÂĄTambiĂ©n estĂĄ en el hospital!". "ÂżYa estĂĄ muerto? ÂĄSi no, tendrĂĄ que pagar por lo que hizo!". Joelle no solĂ­a arremeter, pero esta vez era diferente. Shawn era la Ășnica familia que le quedaba. Su padre, incapacitado por un derrame cerebral, se encontraba en estado vegetativo con poca o ninguna esperanza de recuperaciĂłn, y su madre habĂ­a fallecido en un accidente de trĂĄfico. Desde los dieciocho años, habĂ­an sido solo ella y Shawn, enfrentĂĄndose juntos a las dificultades del mundo. En sus momentos mĂĄs oscuros, Shawn llevĂł sola la carga para dejar que Joelle persiguiera su pasiĂłn por el violĂ­n. Ahora la idea de perderlo tambiĂ©n a Ă©l era insoportable. Su Ășnico deseo era que Erick muriera. "Joelle, ÂżcĂłmo puedes decir eso?", sollozĂł Rebecca con incredulidad. Ya sin paciencia, Adrian fijĂł su frĂ­a mirada en Joelle. "ÂżQuĂ© deseas?". "Shawn recibiĂł dos avisos de condiciĂłn crĂ­tica. ÂżQuĂ© hay de Erick?". Rebecca jadeĂł, su frĂĄgil cuerpo estaba temblando como una hoja en el viento. "ÂĄJoelle, por favor! Solo me queda un hermano. ÂĄPor favor, ten compasiĂłn!". Se desmayĂł antes de que la otra mujer pudiera responder. Adrian la levantĂł en sus brazos y le dio una Ășltima mirada de reproche a Joelle. Luego, se alejĂł y la dejĂł clavada en el mismo lugar, incapaz de moverse o incluso de pensar, lo que pareciĂł una eternidad. Antes de su matrimonio, habĂ­a sido una chica adinerada, pero luego se convirtiĂł en la sirvienta de Adrian. Ahora se daba cuenta de lo ingenua que habĂ­a sido. Ella solĂ­a ser una persona muy orgullosa, pero ahora soporta todo tipo de agravios sĂłlo para complacer a su marido. ÂĄQuĂ© patĂ©tico! Han pasado tres años, es hora de divorciarnos y comenzar una nueva vida... ...... ÂżQuĂ© sucederĂĄ en adelante? Los capĂ­tulos disponibles son limitados aquĂ­, haga click el botĂłn abajo para instalar APP y disfrutar leyendo mĂĄs contenidos maravillosos. (Al abrir el APP, directo accederĂĄ a este libro) &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
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... 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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ 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 woman—his mistress—was 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 set—he 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 interview—it 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 know
" "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 mother—and 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 fit—" "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 him—like 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 performance—to 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 strength—and 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 knock—or even open—her 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 him—he 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 ambiguity—she 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. "Justine
" 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 importantly—don'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 him—and he would never accept her. Justine was kind and courteous to everyone except Jenny. Ash had never managed to protect her well enough—the 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 one—not 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 her—a 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 right—a 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 refused—until 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 her—until 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 hands—just 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 her—it 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 Justine’s 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 possessed—everyone 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 soon—let 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 truth—Ares' death—would 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 you
" 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 trauma—from before her time in the orphanage—that 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. Ash’s 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 know
" 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
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