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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | In Merika State, the two of them lay close together on the hotel bed. As their passion grew, Justin Yatesâs husky voice, filled with allure, murmured, âEm, how about having a child with me?â Caught up in the moment, Emily Yates replied without thinking. It wasnât until they were lying together afterward that she remembered what he had said. âA child?â she repeated, a trace of intimacy lingering in her eyes. The look stirred Justinâs desire again. She was a constant temptation to him. Pushing those thoughts aside, he pulled out a ring and slipped it onto her left hand. âAre you proposing to me?â she asked. âYes.â âCan I finally have your child now?â Justin asked, smiling. His eyes were warm, but there was no love in them, as if he were gazing past her, waiting for someone elseâs answer. âIâll give you plenty,â she replied, momentarily surprised. Proposing in bed wasnât exactly romantic or formal, but she didnât mind. She had waited three years for this moment, and it was worth it. Three years ago, she had been injured near the beach, hitting her head on a rock. When she woke up, she had no memory. Justin had saved her. The first thing she saw when she woke was his face, and one look left her captivated. Later, she learned that Justin had paid her hospital bills. She also learned of his identity. He was the CEO of RC Corporation. He proposed that she be his contract lover, and without hesitation, she agreed. They signed an agreement, defining their relationship, and he gave her the name Emily Yates. Yes, she was drawn to his looks. Despite their arrangement, the past three years felt like any other relationship. In the first year, she was a hidden lover. In the second, he introduced her as his girlfriend to his circle. Now, with three years approaching, he was proposing. Once she was part of his social circle, she heard whispers about a woman who had been his first love, someone he cherished deeply in college. She had disappeared without a trace, and he had been searching for her ever since. Over the years, Justin had lost hope she was still alive. That was why he finally proposed. Emily didnât mind. Everyone has a past. Looking at the diamond ring on her left ring finger, she felt like it had all been worth it. The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Justin was showering. Calming down, Emily wrapped a towel around herself and got out of bed to pick up their scattered clothes. A soft *clink* echoed as something hit the floor. It was Justinâs cardholder. She bent down to pick it up, and a photo slipped out. It was old, with frayed edges, as if it had been looked at countless times. The woman in the photo looked like her but younger, just how she would have looked three years ago. Emily didnât remember ever taking this photo, but she had lost her memory. Maybe she had forgotten. She was just about to put the cardholder back when a large, slender hand appeared, taking it from her. Justin emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and falling over his eyes, now tinged with a hint of displeasure. âDonât touch my things,â he said coldly, his tone a sharp contrast to the intimacy they had just shared. Turning away from her, he put the cardholder back in his briefcase, his whole demeanor suddenly distant and guarded. Emily froze. Was he really getting defensive over a photo? She looked at him, confused. Wasnât that her old picture? Before she could ask, Justin seemed to realize that his reaction had been out of line. He turned back and grasped her chin. With a playful glint in his eye, he ran his thumb over her still-swollen lips, toying with them. His voice was cool, devoid of warmth, but his words were deeply suggestive, clearly aiming to change the subject. âWeâre going to be late for the art exhibit. If you rather stay here, I wouldnât mind going another round.â Her cheeks flushed at his teasing, and she gently pushed him away. Her thoughts were scattered, and she quickly forgot about the photo. Justin had come to Merika State on business and had received an invitation to an art exhibition by Haley Quinn. He brought Emily along, planning to take her to the show once his work was done. Haley, a painter who had withdrawn from the public eye three years ago, rarely held exhibitions, making this one a rare event. Emily dressed quickly, while Justin had already changed into a fresh suit. The gallery was close to the hotel, so they walked there. Arm in arm, they strolled down the street, enjoying the perfect atmosphere. Just as Emily felt an overwhelming sense of happiness, Justin suddenly stopped. âJustin, whatâs wrong?â She followed his gaze. Across the street, a disheveled woman, her clothes too dirty to recognize their original color, was recklessly crossing the traffic, oblivious to the danger. The woman pushed Emily aside and wrapped her arms tightly around Justinâs waist. She sobbed uncontrollably, gasping for air. âJustin, I finally found you. You came looking for me, didnât you?â Emily stumbled from the shove, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her. The woman looked eerily familiar. She resembled the one in the photo from the cardholder and, in a way, even looked like Emily herself. âEmma? Is that really you?â Justinâs voice trembled, his eyes locked onto the woman in his arms, as if afraid she might disappear again. Just moments ago, he had proposed to Emily. Now, right there in the street, he held another woman. He gently wiped away the womanâs tears with a tenderness so delicate, as if afraid of breaking something precious. âYes, itâs me,â the woman sobbed, nodding desperately. Frail as she was, she clung to him. Justin was known for his fastidiousness and love of cleanliness, but he now held her tightly. He was soothing her with gentle words, as if she were a lost treasure he had finally recovered. He was afraid that even the slightest rough movement might hurt her. They seemed oblivious to everything around them, including Emily. Justin seemed to have forgotten Emily was still there. The woman in his arms had cried herself into unconsciousness. He took off his expensive jacket and draped it over her. He then slipped his arms under her knees and held her tightly as he carried her back toward the hotel. Emily stood there, feeling like an outsider. Her arm still ached from where she had been shoved, and she could still feel the warmth of Justinâs touch lingering around her waist. Just minutes ago, he had been tangled up with her in bed, proposing marriage. Now, he was leaving her in the middle of the street, carrying a woman who seemed to come out of nowhere. He had tossed aside his usual grace, holding this woman, who looked like a beggar, and rushed back to the hotel. The people around them pointed and whispered, like they were watching some sort of spectacle. Emily wanted to follow him, but her first step faltered. She steadied herself against a nearby building, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window. Her flawless makeup now showed a hint of disarray. Chapter 2 Tears had fallen without her noticing, smudging the fresh makeup around her eyes. Emily glanced down at the diamond ring on her left hand, a sense of foreboding spreading through her. The sudden appearance of this woman might shatter the happiness she had been waiting for. She couldnât just stand here. She had to know who this woman was. After a moment to gather herself, she headed back to the hotel. The plane flew from Merika State back to Haven State. At Lichfield Hospital, Emily stood at the door of a hospital room, arms crossed, trying to see inside through the window. Justinâs friend, Zac White, the director of Lichfield Hospital, along with other doctors, were examining the restless woman on the hospital bed. Two female nurses held her steady as they conducted their checks. On the plane, her face had already been cleaned, and she had been given fresh clothes. âEmma Xander? Hasnât she... disappeared for the past four years?â Zac was shocked. Where had Justin found her? The Yates and White families had pulled every string they could to find Emma, but after four years with no trace, they had finally given up. And now, here she was. After completing their examination, the doctors and nurses left the room. A heavy silence fell over the space. A moment later, Justinâs voice seemed to echo from a distance as he gazed at the woman, now sound asleep after a sedative. âHow is she doing?â âSheâs malnourished, traumatized, and a bit disoriented, but otherwise fine. She just needs some time to recover.â Justin stood by her bedside, clearly prepared to stay with her. Zac hesitated, wanting to say something, but thought better of it and left the room. He opened the door to find Emily waiting outside. Feeling awkward for his friend, Zac adjusted his silver-framed glasses and greeted her with a polite smile. âHi, Miss Yates.â Emily nodded in acknowledgment. âDr. White, whatâs her name? And what is her relationship with Justin?â she asked bluntly, desperate to know who this woman was. Zac hesitated, uncertain how to explain that Emma was Justinâs long-lost first love. This was his friendâs private matter, after all, and not his to reveal. Before he could find the words, Justin opened the door and saw them standing outside. He frowned, clearly displeased. âDidnât I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?â Justinâs voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if his irritation had taken on a life of its own. Emily stood her ground, unafraid. She needed answers. âYou proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now youâre holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And youâre not even coming home? Staying out all night?â âStop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,â he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Seeing Justinâs dark expression, Zac stepped in, concerned that Emily might end up on the losing side of this argument. When Justin was angry, it rarely boded well for anyone. âItâs late. Let me arrange a car to take Miss Yates home,â Zac offered, trying to ease the tension. Emily, however, refused Zacâs offer. She wasnât leaving without answers. âYou think Iâm being unreasonable? Iâm your fiancĂ©e. You left me on the street in a foreign country to carry another woman away without a second thought. Did you ever consider how I felt? âIâll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, youâre coming home with me.â Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justinâs arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justinâs personal bodyguard, William Carter. Emily was stunned, unable to believe what she was seeing. It felt as though her heart was being torn in two. Justin had always been there for her, always caring, always the first to pick up her calls, no matter if he was in a meeting or on a business trip. If she ever needed him, he would show up immediately. If she couldnât be reached, he would search the whole city until he found her. But now, with this woman in the hospital room, he wouldnât even let her near him? âWhat do you mean by this?â Emilyâs voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didnât respond. He stared at her with cold, detached eyes, as if she were a stranger and not the fiancĂ©e he had just proposed to. Time seemed to stretch, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and emotionless. âDonât be childish.â Childish? Once, he had said he loved how she depended on him, how she claimed him for herself. And now he was calling her childish? âIf you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!â Emilyâs heart ached, squeezing painfully in her chest. She knew it wasnât the right moment to bring this up, but she couldnât accept the idea that her future husband would spend the night in the hospital with another woman. Zac stood nearby, listening in shock. Marriage? Had Justin really proposed to Emily? And what about Emma in the hospital room? Justin glanced over his shoulder, worried that the woman asleep in the hospital bed might hear them and wake up. Emily noticed the concern in his eyes. It was an expression she had seen many times when he had worried about her. But now, that look was for someone else. He turned back to Emily, his voice still icy. âIf you donât want to get married, we can call it off. This isnât the place for your drama. William, have the driver take her home.â He didnât like being threatened, especially when it came to his marriage. Without another glance at her, he opened the door to the hospital room and went back inside. William stepped forward, maintaining his respectful tone. âMiss Yates, please donât make this difficult for me. Itâs time for you to go home.â Zac looked at Emily with sympathy. âMiss Yates, itâs late. Maybe itâs best to talk things over with Justin another time.â But how could they ever discuss this again? Her fiancĂ© had just left her humiliated, choosing to stay with another woman without a care for her dignity. The hospital hallway lights felt harsh, blinding her with their brightness. Realizing that staying there made her look like a fool, Emily decided she wouldnât let herself be a spectacle for others to watch. Clenching her purse tightly, Emily turned to leave. As she took a step, her vision blurred, and she nearly collapsed. Both Zac and William rushed to steady her, their grip gentlemanly but firm. âIâll walk you to the car,â Zac offered. Leaning against the wall, Emily took a moment to steady herself, then shook her head. âIâm fine. I can get back on my own.â Her footsteps wobbled as she walked down the hallway, but she managed to keep her head high until she was out of their sight. After returning to the hospital room, Justin glanced down at Emma, who lay pale and frail on the bed. A strange weight settled in his chest, and the pervasive smell of antiseptic only added to his irritation. He tugged at his shirt collar, unbuttoning the top two buttons, but the air still felt suffocating. He stepped back out into the hallway, finding Zac and William waiting there. Emily was gone. âShe left?â he asked, visibly more at ease now that she was no longer around. He didnât want her disturbing Emmaâs rest. âYes, sheâs gone,â Zac replied, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, nodding. With both of them standing there, Justin didnât bother asking how Emily had left. âIâm stepping out for a break,â he said. Chapter 3 âSo, Emma Xanderâs back. What are you going to do?â Zac asked, breaking the silence. He didnât mention Emily, but they both knew what he meant. One woman was the college sweetheart, the first love who had once saved Justinâs life. The other was the girlfriend who had been with him for three years, sharing his most intimate moments, and now, his fiancĂ©e. After a long pause, Justin replied, his voice cold and detached. âShe was just a stand-in. She could never compare to Emma.â He went on, his tone utterly indifferent, as if he hadnât been the one to propose to Emily in Merika State. âThe role of Mrs. Yates will never be hers. It can only belong to Emma.â In a way, Emily had saved him the trouble of saying it himself when she had brought up their marriage in the hallway. Zac and Justin had been close friends since childhood, both growing up in privileged families, each carrying a bit of that self-centered mindset typical of their social circle. But this time, Zac couldnât help feeling sorry for Emily. Emily, though an orphan with no family or wealth, was straightforward and honest. Over the past three years, she had complemented Justin perfectly, and in Zacâs eyes, they had seemed genuinely happy together. On the other hand, considering how long Emma had been abroad, it wasnât hard to guess what she might have gone through. Zac didnât care about things like V-card or a womanâs past, but he had always found Emma to be somewhat pretentious. Even back in college, she often disregarded Justinâs concerns, running off on her own without a second thought. After graduation, she mysteriously vanished during an overseas reunion party organized by a close group of alumni. Despite mobilizing every possible connection, they never found her. Even the police suggested they give up, implying that a young woman disappearing overseas was likely gone for good. At that time, Justin hadnât fully taken over the company and wasnât yet experienced in handling crises like these. Around the same time, his father, Henry Yates, was in a car accident and died despite emergency treatment. After the funeral, Justin was suddenly thrust into the dual responsibilities of inheriting the company and fending off his uncle, Harry Yates, who was trying to seize control. Thanks to his grandfatherâs intervention, Justin managed to stabilize the corporation. By then, the critical window to find Emma had long passed, and any chance of finding her had all but disappeared. Zac clearly remembered how Justin had been consumed with frustration and self-blame during those days. And then Emily had come into his life, bringing him some peace. For that, Zac was truly grateful to her. âEmilyâs been with you for three years,â Zac said, trying to speak up for her. âSheâs an orphan, with no one else in the world. Isnât it a bit cruel to treat her like this?â âThen Iâll keep her around,â Justin replied casually, brushing it off like it was no big deal. âBut marriage? Thatâs not going to happen.â His tone was so offhanded, as if having another woman around didnât matter at all. He didnât see a problem with it. Keep her around? Really? Was he expecting her to stay hidden away as his stand-in lover, someone he kept out of sight? A mistress? A side piece? Emily didnât leave the hospital right away. She sat on a bench behind the flower bed, letting the cold night air wash over her. She hadnât expected to find out the truth like this. It turned out she was only here because she happened to look almost exactly like his lost one true love. And since she had lost her memory, he saw the perfect opportunity to mold her into the image of the woman he truly missed, hiding the truth from her and using her as a substitute. All the affection and indulgence he had shown her, it was never really for her. It was for the woman he had lost. Emma Xander. So that was her name, the one he had loved all his life. That was why he named her Emily, a name that allowed him to keep calling out for the one he had always loved. Even in their most intimate moments, he would call her âEm.â Whenever he whispered âEmâ in that deep, seductive voice, full of passion, she would lose herself completely, sinking further into him. It turned out he was simply looking at her face and calling out another womanâs name all along. It dawned on her that the photo in Justinâs wallet must have been of Emma, not her. She had foolishly assumed the woman in that picture was herself. What a joke. From start to finish, Justin had shaped her into the image of his hidden love, his one true love. And she had naively believed that she had won him over, making him fall in love with her. In truth, she was nothing more than a piece in their story. Emily felt her heart plunge from a mountaintop to the depths of despair. She had gone from being a proud fiancĂ©e to a hidden stand-in, a shadow. She had liked, maybe even loved Justin. But her pride couldnât accept that she had been someone elseâs replacement all along, or that she was now the secret other woman. Resolved to leave, she felt a small sense of relief that Justin had only proposed. They werenât married yet, and breaking up would be far easier than going through a divorce. For a moment, she felt grateful for Emmaâs sudden appearance. âMiss Yates, where are you?â the driver called, stepping out of the car after waiting a while. âIâm here.â Emily pulled herself from her thoughts, putting on her usual calm expression. âIs it just you? Whereâs Mr. Yates?â he asked. âHeâs not coming back.â Emily rose from the bench by the flower bed and walked back to the car with the driver. She wore a cream-colored, knee-length dress in a sweet, innocent style. As an artist, she was open to trying any look, but it was Justin who had said he liked this style. So, for the past three years, she had dressed this way for him. The spring breeze brushed her bare calves, sending a chill through her. Zac looked a bit uncomfortable, âEmily didnât leave?â So, she had heard everything they had said. Justinâs tone was just as indifferent, cold, and unfeeling. âGood. Let her hear it. She needs to know her place and avoid causing any more scenes like tonight.â With that, he turned and walked away from the garden, completely unfazed by the fact that Emily had overheard him. Emily sat quietly during the ride back to Villa One. Mrs. Zimmer greeted her at the door, her face lighting up warmly after a few days apart. âYouâre back! It mustâve been tiring, traveling with Mr. Yates.â Emily nodded wearily, barely acknowledging her. âYes.â âWhereâs Mr. Yates?â Mrs. Zimmer glanced behind her, looking for Justin. âHe wonât be back tonight.â Emilyâs voice was detached, as if his return made no difference to her. Mrs. Zimmer looked slightly disappointed at first, but then her face lit up with a knowing smile, the kind that came from having seen a lot in life. She took Emilyâs suitcase and gently urged her to go get some rest in the bedroom. Once inside, Emily understood Mrs. Zimmerâs smile. The room was dimly lit, with candles arranged at various heights, casting a soft, romantic glow. Flowers and scented candles adorned the surfaces, and a bottle of champagne sat open on the table. Even the usual heavy gray curtains had been replaced with delicate lace, adding an air of intimacy. The bed was covered in thick rose petals, the entire room transformed into a romantic setting. Clearly, this had been Justinâs arrangement before their trip. Exhausted, Emily didnât have the energy to clean up, and it was too late to bother Mrs. Zimmer. Chapter 4 Emily found the remote to turn on the lights, then looked for something handy to snuff out each candle one by one. Afterward, she retrieved her nightgown from the closet and headed for a shower. As she walked into the bathroom, she noticed the ring still on her left hand. She slipped it off and tossed it into the corner of her jewelry box. When she returned to the bedroom, she brushed all the rose petals off the bed and settled under the covers, pulling them over her head. She instinctively lay on the left side of the bed, where she was used to sleeping. Justin would always hold her close, gradually shifting over to the left with her until they were practically glued together. Now, the right side of the bed was glaringly empty. To fill the space, she scooted to the center, tossing the extra pillow onto the floor, finally feeling comfortable. She turned off the lights and went to sleep. Two days passed without any word from Justin. He was likely at the hospital with Emma or busy with work. Emily didnât care and hadnât reached out, maintaining a complete radio silence. The morning sun was bright, and the spring breeze was warm as she lounged on a deck chair in the villaâs garden, enjoying a face mask. Her mind wandered to practical matters. She had spent some time reviewing the contract she signed three years ago to be Justinâs âcontract lover.â It was set to expire automatically after three years, which was now less than four months away. When it ended, she would receive a payout of twenty million. Between that, and the allowance and holiday bonuses he had given her over the years, she had saved nearly six million. She had barely spent any of it, so it was all tucked away. It seemed she would be in decent shape financially, and finding a job after leaving wouldnât be too hard. As for a place to live, she could buy a similarly sized home, and maybe invite Helen to move in as a roommate. It would be nice to have company. She did regret not being able to take Mrs. Zimmer with her. If she could, it would be perfect. The phone on the coffee table buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. Emily picked it up, unlocked it with her fingerprint, and a new message notification popped up at the top of the screen. She tapped to open it. It was from her friend, Helen Walker. They had met a year ago while shopping, when Helen insisted on becoming friends after seeing her just once. With no memory of any past friendships, Emily had found Helen easy to talk to, and they had gradually become close. âHow was your time in Merika State? When are you coming back?â Helen had attached a mischievous emoji with a smirk. âIâm already back.â âAlready? That was quick.â âI thought Justin looked strong. Guess he didnât last long? Not up to it?â âNot just ânot up to itâ. He canât even get started.â Emily replied, seizing the chance to curse him. On the other end, Helen raised an eyebrow. It looked like Justin had managed to tick off her friend. But she wasnât too concerned as they had argued before. Couples fought, and it usually blew over. âPerfect timing then. Iâm heading to the TC Mall in a bit to stock up on some new clothes. Letâs hit the mall together and grab some food afterward. Get ready and meet me there.â âSounds good. Iâll see you at the mall.â Emily agreed readily. She had spent the past couple of days clearing out the sweet, youthful clothes she didnât like. Her wardrobe could use a refresh. She put down the phone and washed off her face mask. Glancing at the nearly empty wardrobe, she picked out a casual athletic outfit and did a quick, simple makeup look. Fresh and tidy, she got ready to head out. âMrs. Zimmer, Iâm meeting a friend to go shopping. Iâll have lunch out,â Emily said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. âAlright, Miss Yates. Will you be back for dinner?â Mrs. Zimmer, who was supervising the housekeeperâs cleaning, looked up to ask. Emily paused while slipping on her shoes, thinking about how unpredictable Helen could be and that they hadnât seen each other in a while. She might not be back for dinner. âNot sure yet. Iâll text you later if Iâll be back in time.â âUnderstood.â As Emily opened the door, she found Justinâs assistant, Sam Spencer, just about to knock. âHi, Sam,â she greeted him coolly, planning to step around him to leave. âHi, Miss Yates. Mr. Yates has a flight out of town this afternoon for a business trip. Could I trouble you to help pack his things before you go?â Samâs tone was respectful, as usual. Emily didnât move. âMrs. Zimmer, Justinâs going on a trip. Could you please help with his packing?â âMiss Yates, thisâŠ?â Samâs face showed confusion. âWhat? Before I came along, didnât Justin have someone to handle his luggage?â Her expression was calm, her tone light. âOf course. Youâre absolutely right, Miss Yates,â Sam replied, beads of sweat forming as he carefully balanced his response, not daring to offend either side. In the past, Emily had always packed for Justinâs business trips. She had done it so many times that she knew exactly what he would need for any occasion. But now, she had no desire to continue. He had used her as a stand-in, and every time he watched her pack his bags, he must have thought she looked foolish. Three years. Now that she thought back, there had been plenty of strange looks and behaviors from Justin that she hadnât picked up on. She had been utterly blind. But she wouldnât be foolish anymore. Emily was ready to leave, but Sam was blocking the door, preventing her from going. She urged Mrs. Zimmer to hurry with the packing. Mrs. Zimmer quickly filled the suitcase and handed it to Sam, who was waiting in the living room. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had barely passed. That was fast. "Mrs. Zimmer, are you sure itâs all packed? Should we check to make sure nothingâs missing?" he asked cautiously. Emily replied without emotion, âIsnât the flight at noon? If you keep dragging your feet, heâll miss it. Besides, anything he needs can be bought over there.â She checked her watch, starting to feel a bit pressed for time. If she delayed much longer, Helen would end up waiting impatiently, and they would miss out on shopping before lunch. And who wanted to try on clothes with a full stomach? âOf course, Miss Yates. Iâll head over to the office to pick up Mr. Yates,â Sam said with a polite smile, making his way out. Emily nodded and headed down to the garage. She chose a white luxury car and drove off. Meanwhile, Sam took the suitcase to the sleek black car parked discreetly by the curb. He placed it in the trunk, then settled into the front passenger seat. The driver, Justinâs bodyguard, William, started the car. But instead of heading to the airport, they were bound for Lichfield Hospital. âHow much longer until Emilyâs contract is up?â Justinâs voice was calm and emotionless, as if he were discussing a routine business matter. Sam immediately understood that the question was directed at him. He quickly recalled the contract details. âLess than four months, Mr. Yates.â âDraft a new agreement and deliver it to her when the time comes,â Justin instructed. Keeping her around for three years had cost him little, and continuing to support her wasnât an issue. But he was done with her. He wouldnât touch her again or return to Villa One. Recalling the scene from the hospital hallway two nights ago, he added without hesitation, âInclude a clause that ensures she never shows up in front of Emma again.â Sam was momentarily taken aback but quickly regained his professional composure. âUnderstood, Mr. Yates.â Chapter 5 People said billionaires were cold and indifferent in their personal lives, switching women as easily as they changed clothes. For the past three years, Mr. Yates had only been with Miss Yates, making him seem like a devoted man. But it looked like he could move on in an instant. Who knew how long Miss Xander would last by his side? Sam had joined the company three years ago, right when Justin took over RC Corporation, so he wasnât familiar with the complicated history between Emma and Justin. Inside TC Mall, Emily was browsing through clothes, each piece a far cry from her usual sweet and innocent style. âBabe, switching things up?â Helen asked, watching as Emily picked up a long black dress with a slitted hem. It would look stunning on Emilyâs curves. Emily held the dress up to herself in the mirror, unfazed. âYep, time for a change. Do you think this would look better with a shawl or a jacket?â She turned to give Helen a look. âA shawl, definitely. Itâll highlight your figure beautifully,â Helen replied with her usual style advice. âThatâs what I thought too.â Helen eyed the dress. âThat dress is so feminine. Will your guy even let you wear it out? Doesnât Justin only let you wear those sweet, innocent schoolgirl outfits?â Helen couldnât help but mentally criticize Justinâs taste. What kind of fashion sense did he have anyway? A multinational CEO, a man with a grip on the Haven State economy, yet he liked her to dress like a schoolgirl. âHis taste doesnât matter anymore. Itâs not something Iâm concerned about,â Emily replied casually, completely indifferent. She handed the dress to a fitting assistant with a similar build, having her try it on for her. High-end stores like this one often had staff who modeled the clothes for clients, so she didnât have to try them on herself. Emily picked out a few more items in different styles for the assistant to model. If she liked them, she would buy them. When she was satisfied with her choices, she scanned her card and paid, then filled out the delivery details for Villa One. The clothes would be sent straight there. After they had finished shopping, they went for lunch. With no one else around, Emily finally shared her situation with Helen that she had been Justinâs stand-in for his one true love. Now that his true love had returned, she was planning to leave him. âThat despicable man!â Helen burst out, her emotions flaring. âKeep it down.â Emily quickly covered Helenâs mouth and glanced around to see if anyone at nearby tables was paying attention to them. Helen lowered her voice but was still fuming. âJustin might look put-together, but heâs not even half a man. His first love disappears, so he goes and finds a stand-in? âWhy didnât he just get plastic surgery to look like her? Then he could see her every time he looked in the mirror. âGood for you for walking away. You should break up with him. No! Just breaking up is too good for that pompous human garbage! You need to dump him into the sewers!â LMAO, where did Helen even learn these insults from? Just then, the server brought out a tray with seasoned meats, fresh vegetables, and a variety of salsas. Emily began assembling her own tacos, adding the toppings she liked best. âThe contractâs up in four months. Iâm planning to buy a place.â âWhat for? Just stay with me. Iâve got a room for you.â âMy address is still tied to Justinâs place. Since Iâve decided to leave, I need a clean break. Iâll need my own place to change everything over,â Emily explained, outlining her plan. Her heart felt numb now, no longer as raw as it had been the night sheâd learned the truth in the hospital garden. âThen you can cancel your lease and move in with me! Weâll be family!" Emily suggested excitedly. Helen suppressed the impulse to tell Emily that they were already family. Given Emily's amnesia, she didnât want to overwhelm her with too much information all at once. Instead, she nodded. âAlright, Iâll move in with you. Iâll start looking around for a place for you. Actually the place I rent now is quite nice. The location and neighborhood are perfect. Iâll check if the landlordâs interested in selling, though itâs a resale property.â âI donât care if itâs new or used. As long as itâs clean and ready to go, Iâm good.â Emily didnât need much. After leaving the cushy life she had been used to, she was perfectly fine doing things on her own. She found the independence kind of refreshing. After lunch, they picked up some accessories to go with the new outfits, light enough to carry back on her own. Emily said goodbye to Helen and drove back to Villa One. By the time she got back, the clothes she had bought that morning had already been delivered, ironed, and neatly hung in the walk-in closet by the house staff. She hadnât bought much, just enough to last the next few months and to keep the move as hassle-free as possible. The womenâs side of the closet was nearly empty, with only a few of her favorite pieces hanging. She grabbed a new loungewear set to change into and happened to glance over at the menâs side, packed with Justinâs clothes. Emily didnât linger. She strode past it without a second thought. As she was heading to the bathroom, her phone rang from the sofa. She put down the clothes and picked up the call. âHello, is this Miss Yates?â âYes, this is.â âIâm a nurse from Lichfield Hospital. Your health screening results are in. When would be a convenient time for you to come pick them up?â Emily remembered that Justin had taken her for a checkup just before their trip to Merika State. She had forgotten all about it until this call. âIâll come by tomorrow morning.â âVery well. Have a nice day.â The next day, Emily went to Lichfield Hospital. âPlan to have a baby?â âThatâs right. Mr. Yates specifically requested it during his screening. Your health is excellent, Miss Yates. Your ovulation cycle is regular, so we recommend folic acid, Vitamin B1, and plenty of protein. With the right timing and frequency, you should be expecting good news soon.â The doctor adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly. Emilyâs fingers tightened around the report, a heavy feeling settling in her chest. She had been trying hard not to think about Justin lately, but this report hit her unexpectedly hard. âMiss Yates, Iâll prescribe you two boxes of folic acid and Vitamin B1. Be sure to take them regularly.â Emily interrupted him, finding an excuse to refuse. âThanks, doctor, but that wonât be necessary. Iâll get them on my own.â The doctor wasnât surprised. Wealthy women like her often had access to premium brands from various sources, so declining hospital-prescribed supplements wasnât unusual. Emily left the hospital in a daze, only coming to her senses when she reached a sunny spot outside. She tossed the health report into the trash bin. With Emma back, Justin clearly had no intention of having children with her. And she certainly didnât want to give him one, either. It was easier to pretend she didnât know what the checkup had really been for. Meanwhile, in the hospitalâs garden, the spring sunlight was warm and gentle. Justin was pushing Emmaâs wheelchair, letting her enjoy the sunshine. âJustin, youâre busy with work. You donât have to be here with me all the time. I can manage on my own,â Emma said, her voice soft and considerate. âFocus on getting better. Donât worry about anything else.â Justin felt a deep guilt about Emmaâs disappearance, blaming himself for not protecting her better. He believed his negligence had allowed her to be taken and vanish without a trace. Over the past few days, he had tried to gather clues from her about what happened, but whenever he brought it up, she would break down, unable to share any details. Emily hadnât expected to see Justin at the hospital. Hadnât Sam said Justin was out of town on a business trip? | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15056&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15056&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464668396_838968851777178_6862484548457197291_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=z4WNTaG7AFoQ7kNvgH6IVDq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AUgm1eHH88bIH1GPnxL_uvb&oh=00_AYCnpl9o5TTxmpYPOCD-p9FR3R_N0Ze8RX3PS1YMNARZlw&oe=6745AA25 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | In Debra's last life, she loved Juan so much, but everyone knew that the one he cherished was Shelia. After Debra was drained of her last bit of value by Juan, she tragically died on the operating table. Reborn in this life, Debra swears never to repeat the same mistakes, and she will make Juan regret what he has done! "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she died from postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophieâs voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. "Damn it!" he cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured, biting her lip. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462304210_840096088240723_1509725369341521002_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2yABVRbfQpQQ7kNvgGfrWWj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYB4n4czCyPBn6CLlEBIk1L8RDYJmX6Y2LLe8KJ2tqFqZw&oe=6745A389 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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ЧОŃаŃŃ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČŃđ | ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐșазалŃŃ Đ”Đ” заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла Ń ŃĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж. Đ ĐœĐ”ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ĐżŃŃŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, Đž Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ бДлŃĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала ŃĐ”ŃпДŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃĐ” аŃпДĐșŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐŸĐČалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșаŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đž Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃжДŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃЎОл Đș ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐŸŃĐ·Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐŽŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃал ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃжаŃĐœŃŃ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, ŃпаŃĐ°Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. Đ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČŃŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзла ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐœŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń . ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃĐŸŃŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸ, Đ”Ń Ń ĐžŃŃŃĐč ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐ” ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃОЎŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐČĐœŃĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. ĐŁŃĐžŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ” ЎаЎŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃОД ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. Đ, ĐČ ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃŃа, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО Đ±Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐœŃŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Ń Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла Đ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐșŃĐ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. РазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐžŃĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐČŃŃазОŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃĐŸĐŒĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐĐœ ŃаĐșжД ĐŸŃĐșазал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ŃĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ Đž запŃĐ”ŃОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đа ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°Ńала Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа, ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃЎОлŃŃ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĄĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ Ń ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž ŃаŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž плДŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃлДгĐșа ĐŽŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐżŃŃĐŒŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаŃŃŃŃ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃпОŃŃ? Đ ŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ńла ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃĐŸĐČДЎŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОла ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” ŃŃала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ŃазЎŃĐŒŃĐČаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз зала Đž ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃĐŸĐČ, а Đ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đ” плаŃŃĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»ŃĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ ŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ĐČĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đž ŃЎаŃОлаŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČзглŃĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала ŃДлŃĐŸĐș ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃДлŃ, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. «ĐŃĐŸ...» ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлО ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐ». ĐŃŃа ĐșĐ°ĐœŃДлŃŃŃĐșĐžŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč Ńпала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Đ”Ń ŃДД ĐżŃОжалŃŃ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ!» - ŃĐČĐžŃĐ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃĐžĐč. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃазглŃĐŽĐ”ŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃЎДлŃлОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”ŃŃалО ĐČ ŃŃŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ бЎОŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. Đ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃŃ Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐžŃал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ”Đ·Đ°, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ĐČŃаŃа, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČОД. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃла ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐŸĐłŃ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃŃ Đ°ŃаĐșĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ ĐČОЎДл Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ŃĐŸ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč Ńжал Đ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ” Đž ĐżŃОжал Đș ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐĐŽŃŃĐł ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃŃĐŒ ŃĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «ĐŃŃŃŃДД, Ń ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ» ŃŃЎа!» ĐĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐžĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž, Đž ŃŃĐž Đ»ŃĐŽĐž ĐČĐŸŃĐČалОŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŃŃаŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃала Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃŃ Đž бŃла ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃŃлО ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŸŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐžĐœŃĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đș ŃДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Ń. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃĐœŃĐ». ĐĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽĐ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ Đ°: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐŸÂ». ĐĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃгаŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃаĐČОлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃДла, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐČĐŸŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐž за ŃŃĐŸ бŃаŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃлОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ŃĐ”. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОл, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃДагОŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČŃĐș. ĐĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃĐŒ, Đ”ŃлО Đ±Ń Đ»ŃĐŽĐž за ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлО. «Ч*ŃŃ ĐČ*Đ·ŃĐŒĐž! Đа ŃŃĐŸ жД ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ Ń**ŃŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐŸŃĐșа. ЧŃĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐĐŒĐ”ĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃОлОŃĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČĐ”Ń ĐžĐ· ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČаŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ŃĐșŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ· ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč. «ЧŃĐŸ ж, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐŃĐŸŃ ŃблŃĐŽĐŸĐș ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐČаŃĐžŃ ŃОл ŃЎДлаŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ». «ĐĐŸ, ŃŃĐČаĐș, ŃŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃĐ” Đ·ĐČŃĐșĐž, а?» «ĐаŃĐșĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčŃŃ! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșĐŸŃДД, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ!» ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŸŃ Đž ŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŸŃОлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČаŃДлО ŃŃлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐČалŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃĐž Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»Đ”ŃŃĐœŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐ» ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃĐž, ОлО ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșаŃалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐł ĐŽŃŃга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń Đ±ŃŃŃ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃОлОĐČĐ” аЎŃĐ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ Đ±ŃĐœŃаŃŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·ŃĐ”ĐČала. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа жОла ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃ, ĐČŃДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœŃŃŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз - Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń Ńаз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŸŃбŃĐŸŃОла ŃĐČĐŸĐž запŃĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžĐč, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐżŃĐžĐŽŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. РзаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃŃĐ», ŃаĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐ». ĐŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. йОŃĐžĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃŃОл Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Đ”Ń ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДлаŃŃ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ»Đ”Đ¶ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Ńпал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ! - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -Đ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐČДзлО паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа. ĐĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОл ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐ” ŃŃаĐČĐŒŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ!» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃОла ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃŃал ŃĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃŃбĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ŃДбŃ. ĐĐœĐ° Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ. ĐŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃĐ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ОлО ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлДЎŃŃĐČĐžŃŃ . ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ŃĐșŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž. ĐĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ, ŃжД блОзОлŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐș жД ĐłŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. Đ ŃĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃжалОŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃлаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ”ŃлОŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ бŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃла Ń Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČŃЎаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа». «ĐалŃŃĐ” Ń ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃŃŃ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° бŃĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń, Đž ĐżŃĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла бŃĐŸĐČĐž. - ЧŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČалŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń?» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «ĐĐč, Ń ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐžŃ . ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżŃОбДŃĐžŃŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ. ĐŻ ŃŃŃала, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșазалŃŃ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżŃОЎала ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃ ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃŃпДла ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐлаĐČа 2 ЧŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ Â«ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃаŃ, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. - ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃŃĐ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ŃаблОŃĐșŃ Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐ” ĐŻĐœŃ. «ĐĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ”. «ĐŃЎа ĐŒŃ ĐžĐŽŃĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃаŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ. ĐĐœ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ”. ĐĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃĐčŃĐ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа жЎаŃŃ». ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”ŃĐ” ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ŃĐŽĐŸŃаĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃĐŸĐ” ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžĐœŃжЎŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž бŃлО ŃĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐ”ŃДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč глаз Đž ĐżŃĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ±Ń Đ±ŃлО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃДзĐșĐžĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃДЎŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃĐșŃŃĐČал Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐžŃŃŃĐč ŃŃŃĐœŃĐč ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃаĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ŃĐșŃŃŃŃ ĐșŃаŃĐœŃĐ” ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃОД Đ±Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃĐžŃ . Đ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОŃа ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČалаŃŃ Đ¶ŃŃŃĐșĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ŃаĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла, бŃĐŽŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±ŃĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ ŃŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃаŃŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸ: «ĐĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž Ń ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃĐž бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ŃĐșĐŸŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃЎДлалО ĐČаŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃОД. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžŃŃОлО ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃ Đž ŃбŃалО ĐČŃĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃĐ” ŃлОĐșĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐČĐ”ŃЎОл ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŻ ŃаĐșжД пДŃДпŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОл запОŃĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ ŃДзĐșĐŸ пДŃĐ”Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ пДŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОО «ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ». «ĐŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”Ń Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ĐżŃĐžĐłĐœŃла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃаŃŃŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. «Đа... Đ-ŃŃĐŸ бŃла Ń», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД Đș ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ. ĐŃĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐžŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалД ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°ŃĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžĐșĐž. Đ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș ŃаĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČŃĐ” ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŸŃŃаŃлО Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃĐŸĐłĐ” бŃĐŽŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșаŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃŃĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃлО Ńж ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃĐż Đș ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃжОŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ŃŃŃŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ЎажД бŃаĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŒŃŃлО Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ń ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃОла жŃŃŃĐșŃŃ Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃа. «ЧŃĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń ŃŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «ĐŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČŃŃал ĐĐžŃалОĐč Đž жДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃа ЎаŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃаĐșŃĐœŃĐč ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. «РŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ, Đž ĐČŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ, ĐșаĐș бŃĐŽŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». «ĐĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽŃŃŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «ĐаŃалŃĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃОлŃŃ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČŃ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃжД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ бŃаĐș ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃĐŒ ĐČаŃĐžĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ». ĐŃĐ±Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐœŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ”, а лОŃĐŸ Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ заŃŃаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ. «йДбД ŃŃĐŸ, жОŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃОгŃĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșазал ŃĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заЎŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ·Đ»ĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃа - ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃŃа ОлО ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐžĐč за ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ЎДлОŃŃ Ń ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ Đ»Đ”Ń, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОла Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČĐŸ. «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла Ńа. ĐŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ° бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃлДзОлОŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃĐŸ, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃаОĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ. ĐŃ ĐŒŃŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлОŃŃ Đș ĐżŃДЎŃĐŽŃŃĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐłĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±Ń ŃпаŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐ»Ńла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» за ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±Ńла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐŃ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃлО ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐČДлО ĐžŃ Đș ĐœŃĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ŃаĐșŃ ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ ŃаĐșŃĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐČĐ»ŃŃŃŃŃ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃŃŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заŃŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐ”Ń: «ĐŃ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃĐ” ŃаĐș ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ±Ń ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ńала ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČŃŃаĐșаŃŃ?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. «ĐĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ». ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃаŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃла Đ”Đč ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ĐŃпДĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД». «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”Ńла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. «ĐĐ” за ŃŃĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаĐș Đž бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐČŃŃĐŸĐșа. ĐажД бДз ŃĐžŃŃла Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœŃĐč ĐČŃаŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”Ń Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃла ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃОО Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃла ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ заĐčŃĐž ĐČ ŃŃаŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ŃапОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа ĐČĐŸŃла ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ŃŃŃаЎала ĐŸŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃĐžŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž бŃла пДŃĐ”ŃаЎĐșа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃаŃ, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃлаŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° бŃаĐș, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃĐ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃĐŸŃОла ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ: «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ°, Ń ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃлДŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃаŃ». ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”ŃжĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ лОŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃала ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșаŃĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. «ĐОла, - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃĐ»Ńгѻ. ĐлаĐČа 3 ЧаŃŃĐœŃĐč паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃаŃŃĐ” Đ”Ń. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐșŃпДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃĐž. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃОлŃŃ ĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «РĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃгД ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ?» - ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐœŃжЎаŃŃĐžĐčŃŃ ĐČ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž Ń ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐșŃŃĐ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃ ŃаŃпОŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”, Đž, Đ”ŃлО ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐžŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Đа, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŃЎа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃŃ ŃДбД аЎŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃЎа, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșажО ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃ ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. «ĐĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлОŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. «ĐŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐœ ŃŃал ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ. - ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč лОŃĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. ĐŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃлДŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа». «ЯŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ Đș паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃаĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ. ĐаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃла ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃбДЎОŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃĐž Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș ĐżŃОглаŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐČĐœŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ńла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃŃĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ. ЧДŃДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ бŃла ŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃŃ. «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐžŃĐ”, ĐČŃâŠÂ» - ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ· ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃжД ŃЎДлала ĐČŃĐČĐŸĐŽ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐČĐŸ, Đž ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла ŃазŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐČ ĐżŃĐžĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃЎа», - ŃĐșазала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐœŃĐ» ĐœĐ° апŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐ”Ńжала: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ЎДлаŃŃ?» «Đа, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃОО. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃОалŃĐœĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœĐ” пДŃДЎал Đ±Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” заŃĐ»ŃжОĐČĐ°Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐČĐ”ŃĐŽĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃŃŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ лДŃŃĐœĐžŃĐ” ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ. Đ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «ĐаĐș Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз ŃĐČĐ”Ńа?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃ ĐČаŃОл ŃĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОŃĐŸ. «ĐĐșĐ»ŃŃĐž ŃĐČДѻ, - ĐżŃĐžĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń ŃĐșĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ŃŃĐșĐžĐč ŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа бŃĐ» ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐŒĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐžŃ ĐŒŃŃлДĐč. ĐĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, лДжаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž, ŃŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃбаŃĐșа бŃла ĐČ ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ заŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đč ĐșŃĐŸĐČĐž. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐČЎаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ŃĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń . ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐČŃЎаĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃОлОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃала Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃĐ°ĐŒĐž ŃазŃДзала ŃŃбаŃĐșŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃлО. ĐĐœĐ° ŃбŃала ĐČŃŃ Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŃОД ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżŃаĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃа ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ńала лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаĐČ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ±ŃлО бŃŃŃŃŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃĐžĐČĐœŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃŃŃ Đ»Đž Ń ĐČĐ°Ń Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”ŃĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ°ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČŃДЎОлО лОŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃаŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń Đ”Ń Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Đ”Ń. «ĐДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ ĐČалŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃпОла Đș ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Đ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ŃĐ°Đœ. ĐĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČОД ĐżŃДпаŃаŃа, ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐČŃ. ĐŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃДз ŃĐ°Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃОла. Đ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ Đž ŃŃпДŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐșĐž Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐ±ĐŸŃĐœŃŃ». «ĐŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·Ń», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ŃпалŃĐœŃ. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° пДŃĐČŃĐč ŃŃаж, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ĐșŃŃĐ» ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «Я ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČŃОД ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ, ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃŃаŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ°ĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃ, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃ ĐČŃŃĐžŃлОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČаŃĐ”Đč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč заŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, ŃŃажОĐČаŃŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐșŃĐ°Ń ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐĐœ ĐČŃглŃЎДл ŃлабŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃŃ ĐœŃлО ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃĐŒ блДŃĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° пДŃĐ”ĐČŃĐ» ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșа. «ĐŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Ń Đ±ŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃŃŃĐŒŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: «Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ŃĐČŃзалŃŃ Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐĐžŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČŃЎаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃаŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃĐžĐČал ĐČаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ńа. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». «ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” пДŃĐ”ŃŃаŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐșажЎŃĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃаŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐČДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč. Đа ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐžŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°Đœ ĐĐ»ŃŃ. «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃал, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐĐ»ŃĐž Đ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ŃЎалŃĐč Đ±Đ°Ń "КаŃĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃлОŃĐ” ĐŃбаŃŃĐșаŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» Ń ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Đа, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐșĐ»Ńб ŃŃал ĐžŃ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐžŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž Đ”ŃлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃĐŸŃŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃОЎŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐłĐŸÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ŃŃал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșŃаĐČŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐżŃŃĐșалŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ°ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгаŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃа: «ĐŃлО ĐČŃ ŃаŃŃĐșажДŃĐ” ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ, ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń ŃжаŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ», - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ĐŃлО ŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃаĐČĐŒĐ°Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃзаŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·Ń. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃла: «Я ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃаĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐčĐŽŃ». ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœ ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐžŃĐŸĐșОД плДŃĐž Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃŃŃ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ОЎДалŃĐœŃĐŒ. «ĐŃ ŃазĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃŃлО?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń. ĐлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ŃĐŸŃĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž бŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃ Đ¶Đ” бŃла ĐČŃаŃĐŸĐŒ. «ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ŃĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃĐčŃĐ” ĐžŃ Ńаз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ” ŃŃбаŃĐșĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐœĐ” ŃазЎŃажаŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла бŃŃŃĐ»ĐŸŃĐșŃ Ń ŃаблДŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃбОĐș Ń ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃŃĐž лДĐșаŃŃŃĐČа». ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐŸ-ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃал ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșазала Đž ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń Đ¶Đ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃжД ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐșŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐČа ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐČŃĐ·ĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐČŃаŃа. «Я ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐŻĐœŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșŃ», - ŃĐșазал глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃĐżŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃла ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŸ Ń ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃ ŃжД ŃĐ”ŃОлО ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОДĐč "ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ". ĐŃĐ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐĐžŃалОŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž Đž бŃлО ĐŸŃĐžŃОалŃĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃŃĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. «ĐĐŸŃ ĐșаĐș?» «Đа, Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ, Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐșĐž. ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃаĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń Ń ĐŸŃДл ŃŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃЎДлŃлаŃŃ ŃŃДЎО ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃĐžĐșĐ”. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ» Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃŃалŃĐœŃŃ . «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃДбД, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃаŃŃŃŃаОĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČа ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃŃĐžŃŃĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. «ĐĐœĐ” Đ”ŃŃ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ», - ŃĐŒĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ŃĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń ŃĐœŃŃĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžŃ, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŒŃ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐČ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ , ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ плŃŃ ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃŃĐ». ĐĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃла ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŽŃаĐČŃŃĐČŃĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃŃ. - ĐąŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ? ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐłĐŸŃŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ĐĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒĐž ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșазалаŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” бŃла ĐČ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐž бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž ŃĐŸŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž ŃĐŸ жД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŃŃ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐŸĐč Đ”ŃŃ ŃŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐŸĐČаŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐžĐČлДĐșаŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃДД ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃДЎŃ, ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃĐžŃала ĐŸŃŃаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč Đž бŃла ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșазаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž бŃлО абŃĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž. ĐĐŸĐœŃŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ лаЎОлО. «Đ, ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń, - ŃĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃглŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ-ŃĐŸ ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - ĐĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”-ŃĐŸ Ń Ń ĐŸŃДла Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃĐșаŃŃĐžĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń. «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃО», - ŃĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ŃаĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ŃаĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ŃĐČŃзалаŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐŸŃЎалОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœŃ. «йŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃала, Ўа? ĐĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃâŠÂ» «ĐŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐșД», - пДŃДбОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Đ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ ŃĐșазала Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «РДŃŃ, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ” ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃ ĐČŃŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалŃ, Ń ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃба ĐŻĐœŃ Đ±Ńла ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșажŃ». Đ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČĐ·ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃалĐșĐžĐČаŃŃŃŃ Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃŃДзĐČŃŃаĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. Đа ŃĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐŸŃОО Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ŃŃŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла ĐżŃОпаŃĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° Ń ĐČĐŸŃĐŸŃ. «ĐŃ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, пДŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃŃŃŃ, - ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃĐ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃлОŃĐœŃĐ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃОЎДл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșŃ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČŃаŃĐ”, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč лДŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃлО Đ”Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃ. Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ŃŃĐ”ĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș Ńаз ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃĐŸĐČĐž Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлОŃŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃДлŃŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃа Đž ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ” Đ”Ń?» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ заблДŃŃДл ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃŃŃĐČа. «ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ŃŃŃĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃД». ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ŃŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃпаŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДŃОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ? «ĐŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŽŃба?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃОла ЎаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ? «ĐаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, пДŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ Ń ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- | Lime novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ | 862 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213512865030790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466728774_829229262498988_8152270968765323477_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=SprURS-ljiEQ7kNvgGen3qt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AAaB7joY46gebSO6HLsFiOo&oh=00_AYDYm37zgjSUFwMc5mhYmeZFnPJgmKk4COH2w8yprLZ9Nw&oe=6745BFFB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | Liesel Sharp had just unlocked her phone while waiting for her IV drip to be done when she received a message from her best friend, Chelsea Walden. "Jacob's back." She faltered. She and Jacob Ford had barely spoken throughout their month-long cold war, so she had no idea he was back. Soon, she received another message. "He's brought a young woman back with him." A photo had been sent with the message. The young woman in the photo resembled Liesel a littleâshe was Natalie Sharp, Liesel's younger half-sister. She'd been raised in the countryside. Chelsea continued, "The Sharp family is throwing them a welcome-back party. Do you want to crash it, Lili?" She knew what Liesel was like. Liesel would give Jacob a taste of his own medicine if he dared to do anything to her. There was even a chance she would set the Sharp residence on fire. Liesel checked her IV bag. She'd had a high fever for three days now, and the back of her hand was swollen from the constant IV drips she'd been on. She wasn't in the mood for that nonsense. "No," she replied. Then, she shut her eyes to get some rest. It was close to 10:00 pm when she took a cab back to Viewpoint Residences. The fever had taken its toll on her, so she soon drifted into a restless sleep. Jacob returned at some point, which woke her up. "Did I wake you?" he asked while rolling up the sleeves of his ironed shirt. He looked down at her with an indifferent gaze. His voice was as alluring as always, though. "No." Liesel's voice was a little nasal because she'd just woken up. She explained lazily, "I wasn't sleeping too soundly after taking my meds." He frowned slightly. "Are you sick?" She chuckled softly. She'd been sick for a while now and had mentioned it in her texts to him when admitting defeat. Yet he looked like he'd only just noticed. She poured two glasses of water and handed one to him. "How are things at Norton City? I heard from Brook that there seemed to be some trouble with it. Youâ" Her throat felt dry and uncomfortable; she wasn't in the mood to chat. Still, someone had to back downâit had been nearly two months since they'd seen each other. However, Jacob cut her off. "Let's divorce." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14615&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 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=14615&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465213480_523643177252179_1090236802447429735_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=q5VTrqvIu-EQ7kNvgFJyWDh&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYDJtxadKQy7wYr4JilrKErS0QbDGMjcEDuIehYvU_-cww&oe=6745A119 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465016650_546682848318838_7095522676840014546_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XYo6ovBETywQ7kNvgFgccv4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYBJwYTk8YQ5b6nIGgTHjBB6FSwzB8hARMnqROZbWHj19A&oe=6745B6A1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | In 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 helplessly. Who would take away the all the blood they needed at the last moment? 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 still don't want 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. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophieâs voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit. But 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 she had never tried on before. 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. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. "I'll wear this one," Debra made up her mind and 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 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 got a terrible taste, his wife is much prettier than the skinny woman he brought. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. "Damn it!" he cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Meanwhile, 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/t39.35426-6/463956934_832516948956211_2350907764249594106_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3z97FL8QK-kQ7kNvgHD5CmG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYCd_Z4-EPC3mEo-oSyF1X-kucuowOd15L6Vi9t0ZN0rOg&oe=674599E1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đ„đ„Click to read the next chapter for freeđ | Chapter 0001 "Where's the patient's husband? Why hasn't he come yet? If he doesn't sign soon, it'll be too late,â a doctor urged. "The patient's husband refuses to come. He said to let her fend for herself,â a nurse replied. "Fend for herself..." When Suzy Frost, battered and barely clinging to life on the operating table, heard those words, something inside her stirred. Summoning the last of her strength, she slowly raised her hand. "Give me my phone..." Seeing her condition, the nurse quickly handed her the phone. Enduring excruciating pain, Suzy redialed the number that was almost etched into her brain. Just as the call was about to disconnect automatically, it finally went through. "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" the man on the other end spoke, his voice full of displeasure and impatience. "Dylan..." With every word Suzy spoke, a searing pain shot through her body, "After you took Anne away, the kidnappers detonated the bomb, and I was hurt, badly..." "Heh..." Before she could finish, the man on the other end let out a cold, dismissive chuckle. "Suzy, your acting is really improving. That weak little voice almost sounds convincing." "...I'm not lying to you, I really am hurt." "Is that so?" His tone grew even more scornful. "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan..." "Beep beep beep..." Undeterred, Suzy tried calling again. "Sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable.â The doctor, no longer able to stand by in silence, spoke gently, "Miss Frost, your condition is very serious. If you have any other family members present, they're also authorized to sign on your behalf.â What other family did she have? In this world, he was the only one who could sign the consent form. No matter how much it hurt, Suzy fought back the tears that streamed down her pale cheeks and asked the doctor with a faint smile, "Can I sign for myself?" "...Yes!" With her last ounce of strength, Suzy signed the consent form for the surgery. The operation lasted four hours and was finally over, but her condition worsened two hours post-surgery, and Suzy was moved to the ICU. For 24 hours, Suzy lay in a coma, unable to open her eyes, but her mind was alert, and she could hear the nurses discussing as they changed her bandages. "Even if the marriage is struggling, a husband can't just ignore his seriously injured wife! You wouldn't believe itâI called him several more times, but it just kept going to voicemail. Doesn't he care even a little?" lamented the nurse. "Here's some juicy gossip for youâthe CEO of Wright Corporation, Dylan Wright, who's rumored to be disinterested in women and hasn't married even at thirty, actually has a girlfriend, and she's hospitalized right here in our hospital. Heâs taking care of her around the clock in the VVIP ward on the top floor." "Itâs strange how different men can beâone boyfriend is incredibly devoted, and another is worse than an animal!" Little did she know, Dylan was so close, merely an inquiry away from knowing that Suzy hadn't lied to him. Yet, he refused to waste a moment on her, simply because... she wasn't worth it! Her eyes, tightly shut, suddenly flew open, startling the nurse who was wiping her face. "You're awake!" Once awake, Suzy was immediately given a thorough check-up and, finding no serious injuries, was moved to a regular room. That night, deep in the silence, despite still being confined to her bed, Suzy removed her oxygen mask and dragged her injured left leg, wounded in the explosion, to the top floor. Outside the hospital room, through the glass, Suzy watched as Dylan tenderly fed Anne Wheeler fruits by her bedside. Her fists tightened, but the anguish in her chest, like a swarm of needles pricking at her heart, didnât ease in the slightest. Three days ago, Suzy and Anne had been kidnapped together. Knowing how important Anne was to him, and despite their rivalry, Suzy had fiercely protected her. For two days and nights, Suzy was tortured by the kidnappers, bearing injuries all over her body, while Anne only suffered minor superficial wounds. Finally, Dylan came... "I choose to save Anne. As for Suzy, do as you please..." He was not only unconcerned about Suzy but even suspected that the kidnapping was a drama she had orchestrated herself. He had never trusted her! The intimate scene in the hospital room turned Suzy's eyes, once filled with love, utterly cold. "It's time to end this!" The moment Suzy turned to leave, Dylan felt something stir and whirled around, just as Anne let out a pained cry. Dylan quickly asked, "What's wrong?" Anne glanced at the door and then gave Dylan a weak smile. "I accidentally pulled at my wound." "Do you need a doctor?" "I'm not that frail," Anne replied teasingly. "But Mr. Dylan, you should head back. You've been with me day and night; Suzy must be upset again..." She paused, "Mr. Dylan, honestly, Suzy isn't wrong. No matter what our relationship was in the past, you are now her husband. No woman could tolerate her husband being so kind to another woman, so whatever she does is understandable. Don't be angry with her, otherwise, Madam Grace might hear of it..." Dylan cut her off, "It's getting late, you should sleep." "Mr. Dylan..." "Listen to me!" "Alright then." As Anne closed her eyes, Dylan glanced once more towards the door. Was it really... He remembered the weak voice on the phone that day. His lips tightened, and he stood up. Just as he moved, Anne grabbed his hand. "Mr. Dylan, my wound still hurts a bit. Could you blow on it for me?" A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes before Dylan finally replied in a deep voice, "Alright." ⊠Suzy didn't return to her room but left the hospital directly. A taxi took her back to the villa where she had lived with Dylan for three years. As she walked inside from the front gate, memories of the past three years with Dylan flooded back like a tidal wave. It had been a blend of sour, bitter, and spicy moments in their life together, but sweetness was conspicuously absent. Dylan had always believed that Suzy married him as part of a calculated scheme. In truth, he wasn't entirely wrong; Suzy had indeed manipulated events to marry him, but her motives were never what he assumedâshe wasn't after his wealth or status; she was after the man himself. She had hoped that time would prove her true intentions, but three years had only intensified his disdain for her. She could never forget his cruel words, "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan, you might not realize it, but I've actually been living in desperation all along. These past three years, I tried to climb out, to be normal, to be by your side, but you clearly didn't care. Since that's the case, I'll grant your wish." Taking what she needed and discarding what she didn't, Suzy left behind only the signed divorce papers and the keys to the villa. She walked away without a trace of longing, leaving nothing behind. Chapter 0002 The next morning, after spending yet another night at the hospital because Anne's pain had kept her from letting him leave, Dylan was finally on his way to the office. As they approached an intersection, he suddenly instructed the driver, "Take me to Bayview Heights." He had been wearing the same clothes for two days and needed a change. Otherwise, he wasnât too keen on returning to that place. Upon arriving at the villa, instead of the warm welcome he might have expected, he was met with an eerie silence and a chilling sight on the living room tableâa divorce agreement! Dylanâs gaze lingered on the signed divorce papers and the keys resting on top. With an unreadable expression, he paused for a moment before turning and heading upstairs. This was his first time entering Suzy's room. They usually lived separate lives, like oil and water, never mixing. The room was as clean and orderly as he expected. Over the past three years, she had personally taken care of his every need. It was hard to deny that in some ways, she had been a competent wife... Realizing his thoughts, Dylanâs brows furrowed, and he stepped forward to open her wardrobe. Clothes and jewelry, everything related to the Wright family were still there. Just as she had written in the divorce papers, she had left without taking anything, leaving with nothing but the clothes on her back. So, her cries of impending death that day, were they all just an act? He sneered. âSuzy, Iâm curious to see what game youâre playing this time.â His phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket and seeing the caller ID, a trace of disappointment flashed in his eyesâa feeling he might not have even noticed himself. âWhat is it?â On the other end, his assistant sounded particularly anxious, âSir, Miss Wheeler has had an accident!â His brow tightened immediately. âIâm on my way!â At the hospital, although bodyguards were posted at the entrance and surveillance revealed no suspicious individuals, Anne had somehow been poisoned and was in critical condition. Anne's primary doctor speculated, âMr. Wright, itâs highly likely that Miss Wheeler was poisoned before she even arrived at the hospitalâŠâ Anne cut off the doctor before he could finish, "Mr. Dylan, please don't blame Suzy. She was just trying to protect her marriage! If I had listened to her and left you as she suggested, none of this would have happened. So, this is all my own fault..." "At a time like this, you should be worried about yourself, not that ruthless woman," Dylan replied sharply. His eyes hardened as he pulled out his phone to call Suzy. "I'm sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable..." The fury in his eyes could have swallowed someone whole. He coldly ordered his assistant, who was standing by, "Search the entire city for Suzy!" Meanwhile, at Hillside Villa. "Ah-choo..." As soon as Suzy entered, she sneezed, causing Allen Wheeler, who followed her in, to become instantly anxious. "Boss, did you catch a cold?" Sniffling slightly, Suzy sneezed again. "It's nothing." "You've sneezed twice; you definitely have a cold!" Allen set down Suzy's luggage and hurried to the kitchen. "I need to make you some ginger tea right away." Watching Allenâs worried and hurried back, Suzy thought of Dylanâs cold words, "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" People who cared about her would worry over something as small as a sneeze. Those who didnât wouldnât have flinched even if they saw her hangingâtheyâd think she was just swinging. Three years ago, she had done everything to marry Dylan, to repay a perceived debt, she had toned down her personality, and humbled herself to the dust, working tirelessly. Thinking back, she realized she must have been out of her mind. Even if he had saved her three years ago, it was her first time, and he really wasnât at a loss. The notion that she owed him anything was utterly absurd. Pushing down the pain in her heart, Suzy stopped Allen at the kitchen door. "Forget the ginger tea. However, the Goodwin family in North Avenue could use your help as a facilitator." "The Goodwin family?" Suzyâs eyes narrowed slightly. "The murderer who murdered my parents, and my own attacker three years ago, might both be connected to the Goodwin family." Upon hearing this, Allenâs eyebrows furrowed deeply. "The Goodwins are influential in politics, and it seems the player behind the scenes is bigger than we imagined. Martin Goodwin, the head of the Goodwin family, has been ill lately, searching for a renowned doctor. Iâll pass on the news that you are the miracle doctor to them soon." Ten minutes later, Allen told Suzy, "Boss, the Goodwin family needs you urgently; they want you to come as soon as possible, but your injuries..." In fact, the moment Allen saw Suzy, he wanted to ask about her injuries and where she had been these past three years. Since she was alive, why hadnât she contacted them? But she never mentioned it, and knowing her temperament, he didnât dare pry. Suzy knew Allen was worried about her, but she didnât want to bring up anything related to Dylan with anyone. It was all over, and she would never contact him in the future; there was simply no need to let them know. Yet, saying nothing would certainly not ease his concerns. After a moment, she explained to Allen, "I took care of a dog for three years, but it never grew tame; it bit me instead." Allenâs anger flared immediately. "Where is that beast? I'll knock his teeth out." No one could harm his boss and get away with it! "Heâs dead!" Dead in her heart. "Tell the Goodwin family that Iâll be there two days from now, four in the afternoon!" Two days passed in a blink. At Wright Corporation, in the CEO's office. Dylan looked up as his assistant, Desmond Hill, entered. "Didnât find her?" âThere isnât a doctor who knows how to treat the poisoning,â Desmond said hesitantly, then added, âAs for Mrs. Wright, sheâs an orphan with no family. Everything sheâs done over the past three years has been connected to you, and nothing suspicious has come up⊠so we havenât been able to locate her either.â "It had been two days..." Was she intentionally hiding, or could she have... Realizing he was actually worried about her, Dylan's brows knitted together. "Intensify the search!" "Yes!" Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dylan gazed into the distance, his eyes flickering with a complexity even he hadnât noticed. "Suzy, you better pray you can hide forever.â "Sir..." Desmond, who had left just a minute earlier, hurried back in without even knocking, breathless with urgency. "Look at this!" Dylan, thinking there might be news of Suzy, took the phone and saw... "Red Falcon?" "A miracle doctor in the alternative medicine world!" Desmond exclaimed, excitedly. "Sheâs renowned for curing all kinds of poisons and diseases. People call her 'The Healer of Legends,' known for treating even the most severe injuries. She disappeared three years ago, and everyone thought she was gone for good, but now sheâs reappeared. âI've just received reliable information that today at four in the afternoon, she'll be visiting the Goodwin family in North Avenue to treat Mr. Martin. Sir, perhaps Miss Wheeler could try her treatment?" "The Goodwin family at North Avenue.." The fact that the Goodwins had called upon her was proof enough of her skill. "Go invite her!" After a pause, Dylan stopped Desmond at the door. "I'll go myself." Chapter 0003 North Avenue was an hour and a half drive from South Avenue. Suzy arrived at the Goodwin familyâs estate as promised in disguise. Using the pretense of treating an illness, she took the opportunity to hypnotize Martin. Unfortunately, she didnât manage to extract any useful information. As she left, deep in thought, a sudden pain shot through her forehead as she bumped into someone... âSorryâŠâ The apology got stuck in her throat the moment she recognized the face. Dylan? What was he doing here? It was truly a case of enemies crossing paths in the most unexpected of places! In less than two seconds, Suzy tore her gaze away and walked off, her expression completely indifferent. Dylan stood there, confused. She was about to apologize to him, so why did her attitude change the moment she saw him? Especially how she suddenly looked at himâit was as if they were mortal enemies. Dylan turned, watching the direction she went, his eyes narrowing. That figure looked just like Suzy⊠âMr. Wright, weâre so honored by your presence. Iâm sorry for not greeting you properlyâŠâ The voice of the Goodwin familyâs butler snapped Dylan out of his thoughts. By the time he glanced back, the woman had disappeared. Following the butler to see Martin, Dylan found the old man looking healthy, his complexion rosy, as if fully recovered from his illness. Dylan wasted no time and stated his reason for coming. But the reply was unexpected: the miracle doctor had just left, barely moments ago. Dylan was speechless. The woman he had run into earlier, the one with freckles all over her faceâwas she the miracle doctor? Knowing it was already too late to chase after her, Dylan quickly bid farewell to Martin. To his surprise, the woman hadnât left yet. Seeing her car just start to pull away, Dylan hurried over, âWait a secâ" But his words were drowned out by the roar of the engine. Now he was almost certainâthis woman had something against him. He quickly got into his car and chased after her. As soon as Suzy saw the black luxurious car speeding after her in the rearview mirror, her brow furrowed. Did he recognize her? She wasnât bragging, but her disguise was so flawless that not even her parents, if they were alive, would be able to recognize her. And Dylan? After three years of marriage, he had barely ever looked at her properly. So why was he chasing her so relentlessly? Just because she hadnât apologized earlier? With a cold smirk tugging at her lips, Suzy floored the gas pedal. "You owe me a lot more than I owe you!" The red car shot forward like a bolt of lightning. "Interesting." Dylanâs eyes narrowed as he accelerated. The red car and the black one sped through the winding mountain roads, like two fierce predators locked in a relentless chase. At first, Dylan was confident in his driving skillsâhe was a man, after all. How could he not catch up to a woman? But in the final stretch, the woman suddenly did a sharp U-turn and drove straight toward him. He quickly jerked the steering wheel to the right, barely avoiding a collision. However, the speed was too fast, and his car skidded into the mountainside. Though he wasnât hurt, his car stalled out. Through the windshield, his eyes met hers. She flashed him a playful smile, then gave him a thumbs-down, taunting him with a level of arrogance that sent his blood boiling. Moments later, she reversed her car with impressive speed, leaving him in the dust. "Red FalconâŠ" She wasnât just a miracle doctor; she was also an ace racer. Although she wasnât good-looking, her talents were undeniable. But why did she harbor such animosity toward him? Back at the office, the first thing Dylan did was instruct Desmond, "Dig into everything you can find on Red Falconâleave no detail out." He had to find out what heâd done to make her so mad at him. Half an hour later, Desmond returned with a defeated expression. "Sir, all the information on Red Falcon is locked behind a heavily encrypted firewall. Weâve switched through several tech experts, but none of them have been able to break in." "...Send me the link." ⊠"Boss, someoneâs digging into your files!" Allen handed his laptop to Suzy, who was lounging on the couch watching a show. "It started about half an hour ago. Theyâve cycled through a few people, and the latest one is pretty skilled. Iâm having a hard time keeping them at bay." "Is that so?" Suzy's eyes narrowed, and she sat up. "Let me handle this." Her fingers flew across the keyboard, lines of code flashing rapidly on the screen. Within minutes, she closed the laptop and tossed it back onto the couch, stretching lazily. "Letâs go grab something to eat." Meanwhile, back at his desk, Dylan stared at the screen in disbelief as the code on his computer spelled out one wordâ LOSER! He nearly smashed the computer in frustration. Watching the taunting word flash on the screen and feeling the stormy tension building around Dylan, Desmond didnât dare breathe too loudly. Their bossâ hacking skills were top-tier, not just in South Avenue but globally, so how could this happen? Noticing Dylanâs darkening expression, Desmond hesitated for a moment before offering a timid suggestion. "Sir, they probably donât know itâs you, so Iâm sure they didnât mean it personally..." "Get out!" "Yes, sir!" "Wait." Dylan stopped Desmond as he was about to leave. "Use the contact information the Goodwins provided. Offer her ten million for the treatment." The main goal was to get her to cure Anneâs poisoningâeverything else was secondary. A shadow flickered in Dylanâs eyes as he quickly formulated his next move. ⊠Just as the food was being placed on the table, Allenâs phone rang. It was from an unfamiliar number. He glanced across the table at Suzy, who nodded, signaling him to answer. He pressed the speakerphone button as he picked up. "Is this the miracle doctor, Red Falcon?" It was Desmond! Suzyâs hand froze mid-motion as she was about to pick up her fork. Was Dylan really that determined to get an apology from her? Naturally, Dylan, who had never tasted defeat, couldnât swallow his pride after being repeatedly taunted by her. Not wanting to get further entangled with him, Suzy motioned for Allen to hang up. "Iâm sorry, youâve got the wrong person." Just as Allen was about to end the call, Desmond quickly interjected, "Wait, please! I have a patient who desperately needs the miracle doctorâs help. Weâre willing to offer ten million as payment for the treatment!" Suzy paused, her expression unreadable. So that was the real reason behind Dylanâs relentless pursuit? Their encounter at the Goodwin family estate hadnât been a coincidence after all? For Dylan to personally reach out and offer such a high fee... Concerned that it might involve Grace Lawson, Dylanâs grandmother, who had always been kind to her, Suzy used lip movements to instruct Allen to ask for more details. Allen asked, "Can you provide some basic information about the patient? You can send it to my phone." Hearing some progress, Desmond eagerly replied, "Of course, Iâll send it right away." As soon as the call ended, Desmond sent over all the relevant details. The moment Suzy saw that the patient was Anne, she casually tossed the phone back to Allen. "Tell them I donât treat for money. I believe in destiny, and this patient is not fated to meet me.â Allen blinked in confusion and thought, "Since when do you have such rules?" Though Allen sensed something off about Suzyâs expression, he didnât ask any questions. Instead, he simply relayed her message to Desmond. Upon receiving the response, Desmond immediately reported Suzyâs message to Dylan. Dylanâs eyes narrowed slightly. "Add another ten million!" He couldn't believe she'd turn down that much money. Suzy sneered. "Twenty million?" A twisted urge suddenly gripped herâshe wanted to test just how much Dylan truly valued Anne. Her eyes narrowed slyly. "Tell them Iâll make a house call for two hundred million. Not a penny less." Chapter 0004 "Two hundred million?" Dylan barely hesitated. "Deal!" Three years ago, after being drugged during an ambush, a girl saved his life despite being seriously injured herself. After a night together, the girl disappeared by morning. It had been too dark that night to see her face clearly, but he vaguely remembered a faint, distinctive scent on her, like some kind of herbal remedy. After investigating, he traced it back to the Wheeler family. Anne had been frail and sickly since childhood and had relied on natural remedies for years. According to her, on the day he was attacked, she was kidnapped and managed to escape. Along the way, she encountered him. Ignoring her own safety, she dragged her wounded body and gave herself to him to save his life. At the time, she was only eighteen. Anne saved his life, and he promised her marriage. Even though his grandmother, Grace, disapproved, he vowed never to marry anyone else. Yet out of nowhere, Suzy showed up. She orchestrated a heroic act, earning Graceâs favor, and step by step, manipulated Grace into forcing him to marry her. With her goal achieved, Suzy saw Anne as a thorn in her side, constantly picking fights. Lately, things had escalated â first, a kidnapping, and now poisoning... Two hundred million, or even more â as long as someone was willing to help save Anne, heâd pay any price. He owed Anne too much. ⊠Meanwhile, Allen immediately informed Suzy after receiving a response. "Boss, they've agreed." He agreed⊠It was impossible not to feel something. After all, she had loved Dylan for so many years. She couldnât help but wonder, if it were her who was poisoned, would he do the same? No, he wouldnât! Heâd wish for her death as soon as possible. That way, no one would stand in the way of him and Anne ever again. Suzy clenched her fists, suppressing the aching pain in her heart. "Deal!" It was two hundred million â since he was foolish and rich, why shouldnât she take advantage of it? But... Who exactly poisoned Anne? What was the motive? And as for the previous kidnapping, after investigating all this while, there was still no answer. There must be a connection somewhere. It seemed a visit to the hospital tonight was necessary, to first determine the exact poison in Anne's system before following the clues. That night, when all was quiet, Suzy, dressed in a nurse uniform prepared by Allen, sneaked into Anneâs hospital room. The girl on the bed had a ghostly pale face and weak breathing. Dylan would probably be heartbroken seeing her like this. It was said that Anne had once saved Dylan, which was why he held her dear. In fact, they were quite similar; Suzy also fell in love with Dylan on the night he saved her. A self-mocking smile curled her lips. Suzy had schemed to marry him, thinking he was single. After all, rumors had it that he was indifferent to women and devoted only to his work, to the extent that his grandmother who raised him suspected he was gay! It was only after marriage that Suzy found out he had a girl he liked; it was just that Grace did not approve of Anne, so she never mentioned Anne in front of Suzy. Three years ago, while Suzy thought she was using Grace, wasnât Grace actually using her too? Remembering that shrewd old lady, Suzy chuckled softly. "Age certainly does sharpen the wit!" Not wanting to waste more time, Suzy reached out to check Anneâs condition. Her brows furrowed instantly; her condition appeared to be⊠Indeed it was! Her expression suddenly changed. Suzy pulled out a syringe from her pocket, aimed the needle at a vein in Anne's left arm, and was about to insert it when her hand was suddenly grabbed. Using all her strength, Anne clutched the intruder's wrist. "Who sent you?" The medical staff in and out of this hospital room were carefully selected, and Anne knew each one well. The moment she saw the person in front of her, she knew something was off. Unimpressed by Anneâs awakening, Suzy shook off her hand and continued her previous action. As the sharp needle tip was about to pierce into her arm, Anne suddenly pushed Suzy and quickly sat up from the bed, reaching for the call button by the bedside. However, before she could touch it, her arm was pinned against the wall. Though most of the intruder's face was hidden by a mask, the chilling glare from her eyes was like a sword laced with murderous intent. Anne became even more panicked. âI am Dylanâs most beloved woman. If you dare hurt me, he will never forgive youâŠâ âSlap!â After slapping Anne, Suzy grabbed her chin. "If you donât want to die, keep quiet!" Her face stung from the slap, and her jaw felt like it was about to be crushed. However, from the intruder's words, it seemed she wasnât here to murder her. Anneâs fear slightly subsided, and she stopped struggling. Seeing her finally quiet down, Suzy released her chin. After drawing the blood with the needle and finishing her task, Suzy removed the needle and left, not caring about the still bleeding puncture site. Having suffered such a grievance, Anne was not about to let it go. She quickly pressed the call button, âSomeone is trying to murderâŠâ Before she could finish, her throat was grabbed. The woman's speed was alarmingly fast, shocking Anne. âI didnât want to murder youâŠâ Suzyâs fingers tightened inch by inch around her neck. âBut since you seem tired of living, Iâll grant your wish!â This wasnât just a threat; Suzy genuinely intended to murder Anne. Indeed, Anne was no saint; she was quite skilled in manipulating situations. Over the past three years, she had framed others multiple times. Suzy had been patient only because Anne was Dylanâs favorite. Now... She didnât care about who he loved. Furthermore, Anne owed Suzy that much. If it hadnât been for her protection, Anne wouldnât have survived long enough for Dylan to rescue her from the kidnappers. Seeing Anne's face turn red with difficulty breathing and veins popping on her forehead, the murderous intent in Suzy's eyes deepened. Just a bit more pressure and Anneâs life would be over! Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached. They were distant, inaudible to most, but Suzy, with her exceptional hearing, could hear them clearly. It was Dylan! She felt a bit disgusted by how familiar she was with his steps. As the footsteps grew closer, Suzyâs gaze hardened, and with a swift motion, she knocked Anne unconscious with a sharp blow to the neck. After all, Anne was worth two hundred millionâthere was no reason to turn down that kind of money. Shifting her gaze slightly, Suzy quickly opened the door to the balcony and then slipped into the bathroom. The next second, the door was pushed open. Dylan entered, his eyes falling on the open sliding door to the balcony. His brows furrowed as he instructed Desmond, who followed behind him. "Close the door..." His words were cut off by a startled cry. "Ah..." Anne, who had thought she was doomed, suddenly opened her eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling, gasping for air in terror. "Did I wake you? I've been too busy these last few days to visit. How are you feeling?" Dylan walked to the bedside, noticing her distressed expression. "Did you have a nightmare?" Turning and seeing Dylan, Anne immediately threw herself into his arms, showing him the marks on her neck and the needle mark on her arm, "Mr. Dylan, just now, a woman disguised as a nurse drew my blood and then tried to strangle me." Chapter 0005 Dylanâs eyes shifted back to the balcony, giving Desmond a subtle look. Desmond searched the area and reported, âSir, thereâs no one here.â âCall the doctor.â Dylanâs gaze turned cold. "And tell the hospital to lock down all exits. Not a soul steps foot inside or out without my explicit authorization." âYes, sir!â After the doctorâs examination confirmed that only blood had been drawn and nothing else had been done to her, Anne finally let out a sigh of relief. The attackerâs identity was still a mystery, and with her current vulnerable condition, it was hard not to feel afraid. But what puzzled her was why someone would go through so much effort just to draw her blood. However... With a shift in her gaze, Anneâs eyes welled up with tears. "Mr. Dylan, thereâs something Iâve hesitated to say, but sheâs really gone too far this time." It was a perfect opportunity to throw dirt on Suzyâs name, and Anne couldnât let it slip by. Gripping his hand, her tears flowed even harder. "Iâm already half-dead from the poisonâwhy wonât she leave me alone? Does she think Iâm not dying fast enough, so she sends someone in the middle of the night to drain my blood?" Dylan's expression darkened, but he didnât respond directly. He simply said, "Weâve already found someone who can cure you with an antidote.â Anneâs eyes flashed briefly with surprise, though she quickly masked it. "But... I was told that this poison has no cure.â âThereâs always someone better who can treat you. Weâve arranged everything with a miracle doctor named Red Falcon, who will help detoxify you. Youâll be cured soon.â âRed Falcon?â Anne questioned, trying to hide her unease. âIs she really that skilled?â âYes, Mr. Martin from the North Avenue had a terminal illness, and thanks to her treatment, he made a full recovery.â Dylanâs voice softened. âDonât worry, Iâll handle everything.â For Anne, it was always âIâll handle everythingâŠâ For Suzy, it was always âThis doesnât concern meâŠâ Listening from her hiding spot in the bathroom, Suzy had convinced herself she'd be numb to Dylan's tenderness toward Anne. Yet, as his gentle tone drifted through the door, she felt an unexpected pang. Despite everything, it still stung. Tired of eavesdropping, Suzy silently opened the window and leaped out. Like a bat in the night, she vanished without a traceâso swiftly, no one would ever know. At the hospital entrance. Growing anxious from waiting, Allen was just about to go in and help when he finally spotted Suzy emerging. He hurried out of the car and rushed over, giving her a quick once-over. âBoss, are you okay?â âIâm fine.â Suzy kept walking without stopping. âStop worrying about nothing.â However, Allen sensed something was off. Logically, with the kind of influence Suzy had, Allen knew he shouldnât be worried. But the ambush three years ago had left him deeply scarred. He could never forget the moment he saw her fall off that cliff with his own eyes. For three years, Allen had hated himself for not protecting Suzy, failing in his duty as her subordinate. So, when Suzy called to inform him she was still alive, Allen swore that, this time, he would give up his life if necessary to keep her from getting hurt again. He wanted to handle this mission for her, but she wouldnât allow it. From the rearview mirror, Allen glanced at Suzy, who had been silent since getting into the car. He couldnât shake the feeling that there was something complicated between her and Anne. Allen realized he needed to find someone to discreetly investigate the matter. His gaze hadnât fully returned to the road when Suzy caught him staring. He cleared his throat awkwardly. âBoss, did you find out what kind of poison it was?â Suzy paused briefly. âItâs Scarlet Veil.â âScreechâŠâ The brakes squealed as Allen slammed on them in shock. âScarlet Veil? But that was your masterpiece! Didnât you destroy it along with the formula three years ago?â âThereâs one last dose⊠with the Harlow family.â âClaude Harlow?â Allenâs eyes widened. âWhat kind of grudge could he possibly have against a young girl to go this far? Everyone knows that poison starts off mild, but once it hits again⊠sheâll be no better than a dog in heatâŠâ Suzy had created the sinister poison to deal with a monster in the past. Even she was confused. The Harlows and Wrights had no bad blood between them. In fact, the Harlows even had business dealings with the Wheeler family. If Claude was behind the poisoning, sheâd rule him out as a suspect in the earlier kidnapping. That much was certain. There was no way Claude would have, or could have, let Suzy come so close to dying in that explosion. No matter who it was, she was determined to find them. It wasnât about proving her innocence to Dylan. She simply wouldnât swallow that humiliation! Whether it was the kidnapping, the ambush from three years ago, or the one responsible for murdering her familyâshe wasnât going to let any of them off the hook. Her eyes burned with hatred when Allen suddenly handed her the phone. "Boss, Dylan sent a message. He wants to arrange the treatment as soon as possible." Thinking of that deceitful man and his tenderness, she said, "Tell him the dealâs off." Earning two hundred million was tempting, but what intrigued her more was seeing what would happen to Anne after the second wave of poisoning hit her. ⊠In the corridor outside Anne's hospital room. Though Dylanâs face remained expressionless, his eyes were as cold as ice. "What did you just say? Repeat it." Desmond, bracing himself, repeated, "Red Falcon said the deal is off." He regretted it now. He never should have mentioned Red Falcon to Dylan that day. This Red Falconâfirst she demanded an outrageous sum, and now she was backing out. Didnât she know just how bad Dylanâs temper was? Suppressing his rage, Dylan growled. "Give me the phone." Desmond quickly handed it over. Dylan dialed the number. It rang but went unanswered. Once, twice, and again, until his patience wore thin. Finally, a soft voice came through, "Sorry, I was busy." Desmond quickly wiped the sweat that had started to drip down his forehead. Thank goodness the call got answeredâotherwise, his phone wouldâve met a tragic end. The phone itself wasnât worth much, but the data stored inside was priceless to him. âIâm looking for Red Falcon,â Dylan said bluntly. âSheâs not available. If thereâs something you need, you can tell me, and Iâll pass it along.â Dylanâs eyes narrowed. âThe price was already agreed upon. Why cancel now?â âPlease, Mr. Wright, stay calm. Itâs true that canceling the arrangement on our side is a bit abrupt, and we apologize. But we have our reasons. Do you think weâd walk away from two hundred million so easily if we didnât have a reason to?â âWhatâs the reason?â âThatâs not something we can share with you, Mr. Wright. I suggest you find someone else quickly before Miss Anne misses the best window for treatment.â Without waiting for a response, Allen hung up the phone. The next second⊠Smash! Desmond watched in despair as yet another phone met its fate. His heart shattered even more than the phone. âFind her!â Dylan ordered, his voice cold. He was determined to see what kind of game she was playing now. Desmond wanted to say, âEasier said than done.â Not just Red Falcon, but also Suzy, who had been missing without a trace for so long. Why did it seem like every woman around him enjoyed playing hide and seek? Inside the hospital room, Anne had been listening to the commotion outside. Once she heard Dylan and Desmond leave, she quickly locked the door and pulled out another phone hidden under her pillow. âDylan found someone to help me get an antidote, but I overheard that they backed out.â Anne sneered. âHe keeps saying how great this Red Falcon is, but it seems sheâs all talk. She mustâve realized she couldnât actually cure me, so she ran at the last minute.â âIf she created the poison, she definitely knows how to cure it.â âSo, you know her? If she made the poison, why would she suddenly refuse to help? I overheard Dylan offering two hundred million for her treatment!â Since Dylan was willing to spend that much money on her, Anne could tell just how important she was to Dylan. The truth didnât matter. Once she solidified her place as Dylanâs wife, even if he discovered she wasn't his true savior, his feelings for her would shield her from consequences. There was a long pause on the other end of the line before the person finally responded, âIsnât this exactly what you wanted? Youâll soon face the second wave of the poison. I hope all your wishes come true.â âThanks for the good wishes. Once Iâve secured Dylan, thereâll be plenty of rewards for you.â ⊠The quickest way to find out if Claude was behind the poisoning was to ask him directly. Even though it seemed unlikely, Suzy decided she needed to meet with him. After all, they hadnât seen each other in three years. So, the first thing she did upon returning to Hillside Villa was to ask Allen to look into Claudeâs whereabouts. Before she could finish eating an apple, Allen had the information ready. âClaudeâs on a business trip to Montara.â âBook a flight.â The next morning, Suzy boarded a plane bound for Montara. Allen wanted to accompany Suzy, but she refused, assigning him other tasks to handle. It had been three years since sheâd been on a plane, and as she gazed at the clouds outside the window, Suzy felt a sense of freedom, like a bird returning to the sky. For those three years, her life had revolved entirely around Dylan. In her attempt to be the perfect wife, she barely left the house and spent her days thinking about how to take better care of him. Every morning at five, she got up to make him breakfast. She hand-washed all his clothes, even his socks and underwear. While he was at work, she counted the minutes, waiting like a lovesick fool for his return. Looking back now, she couldnât believe she had lived like that for three years. What on earth had she been thinking? After landing, she went straight to Claudeâs hotel, only to be told, âMr. Claude checked out early this morning.â Suzy was speechless. She had planned on surprising him. Oh well, since she was already here, she might as well treat it like a vacation. Suzy spent the day shopping, buying plenty of things before catching her flight back home. She had to admit that being single has its perks! The farther away men were, the better. At the airport, Suzy spotted Allen waiting from a distance. âOver hereâŠâ Her smile froze instantly. Dylan? Surrounded by a crowd, Dylan was heading straight in her direction. Suzy quickly turned her back and thought, âAnother unlucky day.â It wasnât that she feared him; she just didnât want to see him. And she was pretty sure he didnât want to see her either. To avoid mutual disdain, Suzy slipped into the restroom. Dylan scanned the area, but there was no sign of Suzy. âAre you sure she was on this flight?â Desmond, sweating profusely, stammered, âIâve double-checked several times. Mrs. Wright was definitely on this flight from Montara.â Desmond could hardly contain his excitement when he first got the news. Suzyâs disappearance, Red Falconâs cancellation, and the woman who had infiltrated Anneâs hospital room only to escape under full lockdownâthose three women had pushed Dylan to the brink of an explosion. Thank goodness there was finally news about Suzy. Otherwise, if Dylan exploded, Desmond would be the first casualty. Wiping sweat from his forehead, Desmond said, "Iâve got people stationed at every exit. We should be able to find her soon." Half an hour later... Dylanâs voice turned icy. âWhere is she?â Desmond wished he could cut out his own tongue. Sometimes, it was best not to speak too soon! He couldnât understand how Suzy, an ordinary person, was so good at slipping away. âDesmond, your performance is really slipping. If this keeps up, I think it might be time to send you to South Allica for some additional training,â Dylan said coldly before walking off. It had been half an hour, and Suzy had probably already made her escape. The fact that she could disappear under these circumstances made it clear that he had seriously underestimated her abilities. Outside the airport, a line of sleek black cars was parked, with the leading one looking particularly impressive. Desmond jogged ahead, opening the door for Dylan, who was just about to step into the car when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something⊠In an instant, Dylan turned, took several swift strides, and grabbed the shoulder of a woman standing nearby. hapter 0006 When Dylan spun the woman around to face him, his expression darkened instantly, like a shadow passing over his features. From behind, she had looked strikingly similar to Suzy, but her front was a different story. Her appearance was plain, a far cry from Suzyâs striking beauty. The fact that heâd even momentarily considered Suzy attractive only made Dylan's scowl deepen. "Hey, handsome, your approach is pretty unique. I like it," the woman said with a playful smile, leaning toward him. "I live close by. How about we..." "Iâve got the wrong person," Dylan cut her off. As he stepped back, the woman nearly stumbled but wasnât discouraged. She moved closer again. "Donât be shy. Weâre both adults here. Whatâs there to hold back?" With a sharp glare, Dylan signaled to Desmond, who quickly stepped in to handle the situation. Once the two of them had driven off, Suzy slipped into Allenâs car, slowly peeling off the human-skin mask from her face. She had thought their encounter was a coincidence, but it turned out Dylan had deliberately come looking for her. But why? After all the commotion, what was he trying to achieve? She had already stepped aside. What more could he possibly want? Allen seemed equally puzzled. His curiosity finally got the better of him, and he couldnât help but ask, âBoss, I just found out... Dylan wasnât looking for Red Falcon. Heâs been trying to find his missing wifeâŠâ "Yeah, thatâs me," Suzy said calmly. There was no point in hiding it anymore. "...Youâre married?" Allen was visibly stunned. "Was. I got married, then divorced." "Was it because of Anne?" Allenâs tone was laced with frustration. The fact that Dylan was willing to spend two hundred million on Anne was a clear sign of their deep connection. Unable to hold back, Allen muttered a curse under his breath. "Like mother, like daughter. Sheâs just as rotten as her mom." Suzy immediately caught the significance of his words. "You and the Wheeler family..." "I have nothing to do with the Wheelers," Allen said sharply, gripping the steering wheel. It was a painful chapter of Allenâs life, one he had never shared with Suzy. He had always planned to take his revenge quietly, without burdening her with his past. After all, Suzy had her own scores to settle. Anneâs mother, Helena Fox, and his own were cousins. An unexpected tragedy left her an orphan, and his grandmother, moved by sympathy, took Helena in. Little did she know, she was nurturing a wolf in sheepâs clothing. On the surface, Helena seemed sweet and caring, but beneath that facade, she was as cold and calculating. When Allen was eight, he walked in on his father, William Wheeler, having an affair with Helena while his mother was away on a business trip â and in his mother's own bed, no less. Not long after, they drove his mother to her death and tried to burn him alive. He suffered severe burns across most of his body. If it hadnât been for Suzy saving him while he was trying to escape, he wouldnât even be alive today. She nursed him back to health, gave him a new face, and turned him into the person he was now â someone William wouldnât recognize, even if they stood face to face. Suzy could tell at a glance that Allen was lying. Since he didnât want to delve deeper into the subject, she didnât push him further. Everyone has their own secrets. She shifted the conversation. "Did you take care of what I asked before I left?" Allen opened the glove compartment and pulled out a blue folder. "The investigation confirms that thereâs never been any conflict between the Goodwin family and the Turner family, not now or three years ago. And there's no way the Goodwins could learn about your real identity." Suzy had once been the heiress of the Frosts, the wealthiest family. Years ago, a brutal assassination wiped out her entire family in a single night, from relatives to servantsâa total of thirty lives, all murdered. The murderers were beyond cruel. Everyone believed that no one from the Frost family survived, unaware that someone had risked their life to save Suzy. For years, she had kept her identity hidden. Apart from Allen, Raven Murray, and Riley White, no one else knew who she really was. And none of them would ever betray her. Suzy opened the folder, flipping through the pages. She found nothing out of the ordinary; everything seemed in order. Yet, three years ago, she distinctly remembered the kidnappers mentioning the Goodwin family. Closing the folder, she tossed it aside casually. "You can dodge the first blow, but not the second." "Yes, if the Goodwin family is really involved, no matter how powerful they are, theyâll pay the price in full," Allen said before asking, "What about Claude?" Suzy leaned back in her chair, her eyes half-closed. "He returned early. I didnât get a chance to see him." "So, are we heading to the Harlow family next?" "Weâll see." After all the running around, Suzy was feeling tired. Sheâd head home for some rest first. Besides, Anneâs second wave of poisoning was set for tonight. Suzy needed to be well-rested to fully enjoy what was about to unfold. ⊠That night, at the hospital. Anne had been unusually thirsty since dinner. She drank plenty of water, yet the discomfort only worsened. She knew it was timeâthe second wave of the poison was hitting. In a panic, she called Dylan. "Mr. Dylan, where are you? I feel so awful..." she moaned as soon as the line connected, not waiting for a response. But it wasnât Dylan who answeredâit was his sister, Diana Wright. "Feeling awful? Call a doctor. Whatâs the point of calling my brother?" Diana had always disliked Anne. "And this is my final warning. My brother is married. Whether itâs me or my grandmother, weâve both accepted his wife as family. Youâd better stay far away from him." Anne wasnât fond of Diana either. "Oh really? You probably donât know that theyâre divorced, do you? And it was Suzy who initiated it." "You're lying!" Diana snapped, not believing a word. "My sister-in-law loves my brother. Thereâs no way she would ever ask for a divorce." "If you don't believe me, go ask your brother. And by the way, your dear sister-in-law has run off with some random guy and hasnât been seen since!" "You witch! Say one more bad word about her, and I'll rip your mouth apart..." Diana was in the middle of her furious rant when the phone was snatched away by Dylan. She looked up. "Brother, that witch Anne just said that your wife wants a divorce!" Dylanâs face was cold. "Watch your manners." "My manners? I rather show some manners to a dog than her! Now tell meâis Suzy divorcing you or not?" "Thatâs none of your business," he said, his dark eyes narrowing. "What you should be focused on is your exam tomorrow." With that, he turned to leave. Diana chased after him. "How can it not concern me? She saved Grandmaâs life! If it werenât for her, weâd both be orphans by now. You canât be so heartless..." No matter what she said, Dylan kept walking without a word. Frustrated, Diana stomped her foot. "Iâm calling Grandma!" Dylan knew Diana would go straight to Grace to complain. He couldnât figure out what spell Suzy had cast over both his grandmother and his sister. They adored her to the point of obsession. The only reason he hadnât launched a full search for Suzy was to avoid alarming Grace, who was currently enjoying her vacation overseas. But now it seemed the secret was out. With that thought, he redialed Anneâs number to find out how she knew about the divorce. "Mr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan..." The moment the call connected, Anneâs pained voice came through. "Whatâs wrong?" Dylan asked. "I feel terrible, I really feel like Iâm dying. Please come and save me!" "Donât panic. Iâm on my way." Chapter 0007 At the hospital. The moment Dylan stepped through the door, Anne threw herself into his arms. She clung to him like a rag doll, trembling against him. "Dylan, I feel awful... I feel so terrible..." âWhere does it hurt?â Dylan tried to push her away, but instead of letting go, she only clung tighter. "Everywhere..." Anne moaned, placing his hand on her front. "Especially here, it feels like bugs crawling under my skinâitching, unbearable. Mr. Dylan, please help me!" Her behavior was clearly not normal. âIâll call the doctor.â âNo, I donât want a doctor. I want you.â Anne clung to him like a vine, her hands restlessly undoing his shirt buttons. âPlease, Mr. Dylan, help me, I feel like Iâm dying. If you donât help me, I really will die...â As her fingers worked to undo the buttons, Dylan grabbed her wrists. âAnne, calm down...â âI canât calm down...â She leaned in, trying to kiss him, whispering his name over and over, âMr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan...â Just as she was about to succeed, Dylan forcefully pushed her away, sending her sprawling to the floor. His resistance spoke volumes, even if he hadnât said a word. A flicker of coldness flashed in Anneâs eyes, but when she looked up again, only sadness remained. âMr. Dylan, do you hate me?â Dylan didnât respond, nor did he help her up. Instead, he turned away. âIâm calling a doctor.â Anne wasnât about to let him leave. She scrambled to her feet and wrapped herself around him from behind. âI told you, I donât want a doctor. I want you! Please, Mr. Dylan, take me...â âAnne, something is clearly wrong with you,â Dylan said, his lips pressed into a thin line. âYou need to see a doctor.â âNo doctor can help me. Only you can save me.â As she spoke, Anne began stripping off her own clothes. âPlease, save me. Iâm begging you.â Just when Anne thought she had succeeded, a sharp pain shot through the back of her head, and everything went black as she crumpled to the floor. Watching Anne fall unconscious, Suzy, who had been hiding in the wardrobe, retracted the silver needle that she had prepared to throw. It wasnât about helping Dylanâit was simply that she couldnât bear to watch the scene unfold. It was the kind of thing that could make her eyes bleed. What she didnât expect was that Dylan would actually... Anne was supposed to be the woman he loved most. Suzy couldnât quite understand why he knocked her out. Dylan scooped Anne up in his arms and laid her back on the hospital bed before pressing the call button for the doctor. When the doctor arrived, Dylan briefly explained what had just happened. âIs this related to the poison in her system?â After a quick examination, the doctor nodded. âYes, youâre right. The poison in Miss Anneâs body is highly unusual. The last time the poison flared up, nothing like this happened. Now, itâs suddenly escalated, and who knows what could happen next. We need to detox her as soon as possible.â Dylan frowned and thought about what the doctor said. There had been no word from Red Falcon. Forget about tracking her downâshe hadnât even answered a single phone call. Desmond had been trying for days, but every attempt had gone unanswered. Detoxing Anne was proving to be no simple task. For the first time, he found himself played by a woman who had him in the palm of her hand. With his jaw tight, Dylan commanded, âFor now, find a way to alleviate her symptoms.â âThatâs going to be difficult...â the doctor began. âThis poison is something Iâve never encountered before, and I know nothing about it. Iâm concerned that if we administer the wrong medication, it could worsen her condition instead of easing it. So...â The doctor pressed his lips together before continuing, âAt this point, the safest way to relieve her symptoms might be for you, Mr. Wright, to help Miss Anne personally.â âAbsolutely not!â Dylan didnât hesitate. âIf it comes to that, weâll use sedatives.â âBut that might not be safe eitherâŠâ âAt least that way, sheâll maintain her dignity,â Dylan muttered, his voice low as he looked at Anne lying unconscious. âI canât let her lose her honor.â So, it wasnât that he wouldnât touch herâhe just didnât want her to be ridiculed. Suzyâs mind flashed back to a day when she had gone to his office to deliver some documents he had left behind at home. His employees had mistaken her for the maid, and from start to finish, he hadnât said a single word to correct them. They had been married for three years, and not once had he shown her the respect a wife deserved. Yet, when it came to Anne, he shielded her at every turn... Suzy didnât want to compare, but moments like this always brought it to the surface, no matter how hard she tried. Why was she even watching this pathetic drama? She really should find a way to slip out of here. And as luck would have it, the opportunity presented itself. The doctor left, and moments later, Dylanâs phone rang. Probably to avoid waking Anne, he stepped out of the room with his phone. Seizing her chance, Suzy quietly slipped out of the wardrobe. But just as she thought sheâd made her escape, Dylan walked back in. Their eyes locked. The air between them went dead silent. Suzy reacted quickly, darting toward the balcony. Dylan was just as fast, his long strides closing the distance. Just as she was about to leap off the balcony, his hand caught her shoulder, yanking her back. "Speak. Who sent you?" Suzy let out a cold laugh. "The hospital is a public place. Iâm allowed to come and go as I please. Do I need your permission now?" She wasnât worried at all about Dylan recognizing her voice. Before going out, she always used a voice-altering agentânot to hide from him specifically, but out of long-standing habit. Keeping her true identity hidden was a necessity. Though she hadnât gone so far as to disguise herself today, just a simple mask, there was no way Dylan would figure it out. She wouldnât give him the chance. "So, you think you can just come and go as you please, huh..." Dylan's grip on her shoulder tightened, his voice growing colder. "Since you're here, why don't you stay for a while?" "The windâs pretty strong tonightâcareful you donât bite your tongue!" Suzy swiftly dodged his grip, twisting out of his hold, and in one fluid motion, threw a sharp punch directly at him. But Dylan wasnât easy prey either, effortlessly dodging her attack. The two were locked in a fierce exchange, trading blow after blow, kick after kick. After dozens of moves, neither had the upper hand. Dylan chuckled, "Not bad." Suzy smirked. "You're not too shabby yourself, Mr. Wright." But then, his eyes flashed dangerously, and he switched tactics, aiming a series of strikes at her abdomen. Realizing his intent, Suzy shifted her defenses to protect her midsection, but in an unexpected move, Dylan suddenly diverted his hand, reaching for her mask instead. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&ut | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 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/t39.35426-6/463457255_1100163098194107_747618574130675275_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xXceajTttgkQ7kNvgHCfMa7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYBAqjPk3rkBR_V9bOBbLCvQtdu2-5f8MBQ0qLzeEccC5A&oe=674599EF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were⊠I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449649369_982697950216881_6633127791340967840_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mpTObHdBlWoQ7kNvgEKtWeL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYAtGP4LU7dVIluC_dlrpO3jblmikdNOYNN6-A9XR7_CIw&oe=6745A44C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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ЧОŃаŃŃ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČŃđ | ĐĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃалŃĐœĐžĐșĐž Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐ”. ĐĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃДЎŃĐžĐč. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸĐ± ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ... ===== ĐлаĐČа 1 РазлŃĐșа ŃĐșŃДплŃĐ”Ń ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа ĐĐ· ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃОлŃŃ ŃŃĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐаŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃлО ŃаĐčĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŽĐČŃŃ Đ»Đ”Ń. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ŃалŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ”, ĐłĐ”ĐœĐ”ŃалŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŃŃпп. ĐŃ ŃĐŸĐŒĐ°Đœ заĐșŃŃŃОлŃŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ±ŃŃŃŃĐŸ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, а ĐžŃ Ń ĐаŃаŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃĐč ĐžĐœŃĐžĐŒĐœŃĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃаĐșŃ ĐČ ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃлД ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐșĐž. ĐаŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżĐžŃала бŃаŃĐœŃĐč ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ, ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐČ ŃĐșŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаĐș ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ĐžŃ ŃĐŸŃĐ· ĐŒĐŸĐł бŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐŸŃĐłĐœŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ. Đа, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ĐșажДŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃазŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐžŃала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč ŃŃаŃŃлОĐČĐžŃĐ”Đč. ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ°-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐČŃĐčĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸ бŃла ĐČĐ»ŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ»Đ”Ń. Đа ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐаŃаŃа ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлаŃŃ ĐŽĐ°Đ¶Đ” ĐœĐ” ŃазЎŃĐŒŃĐČаŃ. ĐĐŸŃлД ŃĐČаЎŃĐ±Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ â Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžĐ» за ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДла, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ĐŒŃжД, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ Đ»Đ”Ń ĐŸ ĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐž Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃŃ Đ° ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ” Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃлО ĐœĐ” бŃаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” бДзŃазлОŃОД, ĐаŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐ» ОЎДалŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃДзŃĐ»ŃŃĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃŃа ĐœĐ° бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐžŃĐżŃŃала ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа. Đ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐŸĐČ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ ŃĐșазаŃŃ ĐŒŃĐ¶Ń ĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ. ĐŃŃ Đ”Đč Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐșазаŃŃ Đ”ĐŒŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОлОŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐČпДŃĐČŃĐ”, Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ»ŃбОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ лДŃ. ĐĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń-ŃĐŸ заŃĐžŃ Đ»Đ°. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃŃДл, зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃДл ĐœĐ° балĐșĐŸĐœ Ń ĐŸĐŽĐœĐžĐŒ лОŃŃ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° бŃĐŽŃĐ°Ń Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃаŃŃ â ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżŃДбŃĐČала ĐČ ŃĐŒŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐł ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžŃŃ ĐаŃаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐœĐžĐč ŃаŃ? ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» ĐœĐ° балĐșĐŸĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ŃĐœŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”. ЀОгŃŃа ĐаŃаŃа бŃла ĐČпДŃаŃĐ»ŃŃŃĐ”Đč. Đа Đ”ĐłĐŸ жОĐČĐŸŃĐ” ĐșŃаŃĐŸĐČалОŃŃ ĐșŃбОĐșĐž, ĐœĐŸĐłĐž бŃлО ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž, а плДŃĐž ĐșŃДпĐșĐžĐŒĐž Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃŃĐŒĐž. ĐŃĐŸŃĐČаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ! Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ŃĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐČпДŃĐČŃĐ”, ĐœĐŸ ĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»Đ° ĐșажЎŃĐč Ńаз, а Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃĐžĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ±Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐżĐ”. ĐаŃаŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐ°Ń ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ° блŃжЎаŃŃĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Ń ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž ŃŃбаŃĐșŃ Đž бŃŃĐșĐž ĐŸŃ ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐ°. ĐĐœ ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃŃ Đž ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒĐž палŃŃĐ°ĐŒĐž заĐČŃзал галŃŃŃĐș. ĐĐłĐŸ ĐșŃаŃĐžĐČĐŸĐ” лОŃĐŸ Ń ŃŃŃĐșĐžĐŒĐž ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐŒĐž ĐżŃОЎаĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ аŃŃĐ” ĐČлаŃŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃа бŃĐ»ĐŸ ОЎŃĐž. «ĐĐ” жЎО ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĄĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃО», â ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ЧŃĐŸ? ĐŃЎа ĐŸĐœ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃалŃŃ ĐČ ŃаĐșĐŸĐč ŃаŃ? Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐșŃДпŃĐ” Ńжала ŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ° бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸŃаŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒŃжа. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° пДŃалŃ. ĐĐŸŃазЎŃĐŒĐ°ĐČ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала: «ĐĐŸ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃжД ŃаĐș ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐœĐŸ...» ĐалŃŃŃ ĐаŃаŃа Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃлО ĐœĐ° галŃŃŃĐșĐ”. ĐĄĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœ Đž ŃŃĐžĐżĐœŃĐ» ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ° ĐŒĐŸŃĐșŃ ŃŃ Đ°: «ĐДЎО ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ? ĐŁ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлОŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ” жЎО». ĐĄ ŃŃĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž. «ĐаŃаŃ?» ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŽĐŸĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń. «РŃŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐœ бŃĐ» Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐДЎŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐžŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐŽ паŃĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДлО ĐŽŃŃĐł ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃга. РаŃŃŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла: «Я Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ°ĐČŃŃа. ĐąŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč?» Đ„ŃŃĐżĐșĐ°Ń Đž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐ°Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșа ĐČŃДгЎа бŃла ŃаЎа ĐżŃĐžĐ”Đ·ĐŽŃ ĐČĐœŃŃĐșĐž. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń Ń ĐаŃаŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ŃŃаŃŃлОĐČŃ ĐČ Đ±ŃаĐșĐ”. «ĐаĐČаĐč ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐŒ заĐČŃŃа, Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ?» йаĐș Đž ĐœĐ” ЎаĐČ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа, ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ». Đ Đ°Đ·ĐœŃĐ” ĐŒŃŃлО ĐșŃŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃла ĐŽŃŃ Đž ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃДлŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° заŃĐœŃŃŃ. Đа Đ”Ń ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐČĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐč Оз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Ń-Đ±Đ»ĐŸĐłĐŸĐČ. Đ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ: «ĐĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃĐ°Ń ĐŽĐžĐ·Đ°ĐčĐœĐ”Ń ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ЀаЎДДĐČа бŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ Đ°ŃŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃŃŃ Ń Đ·Đ°ĐłĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ паŃĐœĐ”ĐŒÂ». Đа ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ” бŃла ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐŒŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ»Ńпа. ЀОгŃŃа ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±Ńла ŃаŃплŃĐČŃаŃĐŸĐč, ĐœĐŸ ЎажД ĐżĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐŒ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń . Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČДлОŃОла ĐžĐ·ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐżŃŃĐșĐž. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃĐŸĐłŃаŃОО ĐŸĐșазалŃŃ ĐаŃаŃ! ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ» ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐČĐœŃŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃаЎО ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ŃаŃŃ ĐžĐ· аŃŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃŃа ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐČŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ? РазĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČаĐČŃĐžŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала Đ±ĐŸĐ»Ń ĐČ Đ¶ĐžĐČĐŸŃĐ”. ĐŃ ŃŃĐșĐž заЎŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž. ĐĄĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ±Ńала ĐœĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń ĐаŃаŃа. ĐĐČŃĐș ĐłŃĐŽĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżŃĐžĐČŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ ŃŃŃбĐșŃ, Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃ ŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ: «ĐĐ»Đ»ĐŸ!» ĐŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœŃĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ńла, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃбŃĐŸŃОла ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐ·ŃĐČ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃ. Đ Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃŃпОла жДлŃŃ. ĐŃĐžĐșŃŃĐČ ŃĐŸŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃŃ, Đž Đ”Ń ĐČŃŃĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐœĐžŃаз. Đа ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ŃŃŃĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ, ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃаОĐČала ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ŃабаŃŃĐČаŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃŃал ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃажаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžŃĐ”Đč, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐČĐ·ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč. ĐлаĐČĐœĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșŃ, ĐаŃĐČĐ”Ń ĐĐœĐžŃĐžĐŒĐŸĐČŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœŃĐŒĐž ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž ĐаŃаŃа. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐČŃĐžĐŒ ĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ” ĐаŃаŃа Đž Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ. Đ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Оз ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ ĐČŃŃŃОл Đ”Đč ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ĐżŃĐžĐșазал ĐŸŃĐœĐ”ŃŃĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐаŃаŃа. ĐŃĐŸŃĐ»ŃĐŒ ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐаŃĐ°Ń ŃаĐș Đž ĐœĐ” ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč. ĐŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» ĐœĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč? ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃŃаŃалаŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČОД. ĐĐœĐ° ŃаŃŃŃЎОла â ŃŃĐŸ Đ±Ń ĐœĐž ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° заŃĐ»ŃжОла бŃаĐș Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸ жажЎала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐžĐ” ĐłĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐŃ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž бŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаŃĐœŃĐŒĐž, ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃаĐș? ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ Đ»ĐžŃŃа Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń ĐłĐ”ĐœĐ”ŃалŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа. ĐŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐčŃĐž Оз лОŃŃа, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃОглаЎОла ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃбДЎОŃŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ ĐČŃглŃĐŽĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžŃла ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃ Đž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐżŃĐžĐŸŃĐșŃŃŃа. РазЎалŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, Đž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ. Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃ ŃДбД, ĐŒŃжОĐș! ĐŁ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ” Đ”ŃŃŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа Đș Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ”?» ĐĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» ĐаĐČĐžĐŽŃ ĐąĐžŃĐŸĐČŃ, ĐŽŃŃĐłŃ ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃĐČа ĐаŃаŃа. «ЧŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃ ĐČ ĐČОЎŃ?» â Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐаŃаŃ. Â«ĐąŃ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐČОЎŃ! â ĐаĐČОЎ ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃпДлОĐČĐŸ ŃŃĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ» ŃĐ·ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ. â ĐĐœĐ” ĐșажДŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. РазĐČĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ĐČĐșŃŃĐ”?» Â«ĐąŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Ń ĐżĐ”ŃДЎал Đ”Ń ŃДбД?» â ĐœĐ”Đ±ŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐаŃаŃ. «ĐĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, забŃĐŽŃ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ!» ĐŃДзŃĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐаĐČОЎа ĐżŃĐŸĐ·ĐČŃŃал ĐČ ŃŃĐ°Ń Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃДзĐșĐŸ. Đ ĐœĐ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлО, ĐșаĐș ĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа глŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла Đž ĐșŃДпŃĐ” Ńжала ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐаĐČОЎа ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа. «ĐŃŃаŃĐž, ŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐČОЎДл ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐłĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐŒ паŃĐœĐ” ĐĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐŃĐŸ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ŃŃ, Ўа?» «Đа». «йаĐș-ŃаĐș-ŃаĐș! ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ŃŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸ ŃĐžŃ ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŽĐ”ŃĐ¶ĐžŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ. Đ ŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃаЎ ĐŽĐŸŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃĐČОД!» ĐаĐČОЎ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐ» Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ» ĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐаŃаŃа. «ĐŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČДлО ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”. ĐаĐș ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃ, ŃазлŃĐșа ŃĐșŃДплŃĐ”Ń ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа. ĐĄĐșажО, ĐČŃ...» ĐŃ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”Đœ ĐłŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐłŃŃĐœŃĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ. ĐŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, а ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đ»Đž. ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° Đž ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐČДлО ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”! РазлŃĐșа ŃĐșŃДплŃĐ”Ń ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа! ĐĐ°Đ¶ĐŽĐŸĐ” Оз ŃŃĐžŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ ĐČĐŸĐœĐ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐ¶ ĐČ Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”. ĐŃĐž ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐŒ ĐŸŃЎаĐČалОŃŃ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ”. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, а Đ”Ń Đ·ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃŃĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлаŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ŃЎДлала Ńаг ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃŃĐž. Â«Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ°?» ĐлаĐČа 2 ĐĐ”ĐČĐ·Đ°ĐžĐŒĐœĐ°Ń Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ ĐĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃĐ» ĐаĐČОЎ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалŃŃ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃĐșĐž, ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ Đș ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ Đž ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃла. «ĐĐŸĐ±ŃĐŸĐ” ŃŃŃĐŸ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ йОŃĐŸĐČ!» ĐĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа ĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČОД, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżŃĐŸŃла ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ĐаĐČОЎа Đž ĐČĐŸŃла ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń Ń ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐаŃĐ°Ń ŃОЎДл за Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐžĐŒ ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ. Đ ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐ” Đž ŃŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒ галŃŃŃĐșĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐČŃглŃЎДл ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐșŃаŃĐžĐČĐŸ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸŃ ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ» Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°. ĐĐŽĐ” Đž ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃŃпДл пДŃĐ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŃ? ĐĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐłĐ»ĐŸŃОла ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ Đž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČ, ŃŃĐŸ Оз ĐŸŃЎДла ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐłĐ°. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżĐžŃĐžŃД». ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńал, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżĐžŃаĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла за ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”Đč бŃĐŒĐ°ĐłŃ. ĐаĐČОЎ ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ”. Đ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ ĐžĐ· ĐČОЎŃ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐаŃаŃŃ Đž ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ»: «ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŒĐŸ! ĐŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала?» ĐзглŃĐŽ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ŃаĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃал ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐŽŃŃга. ĐĐ»Ń ĐаŃаŃа Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃДгЎа бŃла ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐżŃĐžĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐŃ ŃŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” â ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃДД ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. РлОŃŃĐ”. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° заĐșŃŃОла ĐłŃĐ±Ń Đž ĐżŃŃалаŃŃ ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃĐ·Ń, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐČŃŃ Đ»Đ”Ń Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ĐșаĐș ŃОлŃĐœĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ”Đč ĐČĐ·Đ°ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃбŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃДгЎа бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐžĐłŃаŃŃ ĐČŃĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐœŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ»Ń ĐČ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐŒŃжа, ĐČ ĐŸŃлОŃОД ĐŸŃ ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ, Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃбĐČĐž. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃĐ”Ńла ŃлДзŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° лОŃŃ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐș, Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃаŃОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ŃаŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ ŃаŃ. ĐĐœŃŃŃĐž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃалО ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ. «РДбŃŃа, ĐČŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃалО? ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ЀаЎДДĐČа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ». «РĐșŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ?» «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ”! ĐąŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ? ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃа ЀаЎДДĐČ ĐŃŃпп Đž ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ”Ń ĐŒĐžŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ. Đ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐ” глаĐČĐœĐŸĐ” â ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐŒĐŸĐœŃŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐČал ĐżŃблОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ!» «ĐĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ”Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃаĐș ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ? РазĐČĐ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃаДŃŃŃ Ń Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐŸĐč?» Â«Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ°? ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐșа Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ĐžĐłŃŃŃĐșа. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐČĐ”ŃжЎал, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃаДŃŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ Đž ĐœĐ”ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń â ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐșŃаŃĐŸŃĐșа, ĐœĐŸ ĐČДЎŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃаĐș, бŃĐŽŃĐŸ ŃжД ŃŃала Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐаĐș глŃĐżĐŸ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐžĐČĐœĐŸ!» ĐĄŃĐŸŃ Ń ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐČаŃ, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбалаŃŃ. ĐĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃлО ĐČŃĐ”, ĐșŃĐŸĐŒĐ” ĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč. ĐŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ Đ±Ńла ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ·Đ°ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸĐč. «Єа-Ń Đ°, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČа ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ?» ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐŽĐž. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ Đž ŃĐČОЎДла ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ ĐĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐŒĐŸĐČŃ, ĐŽĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐаŃаŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃДгЎа ĐżŃДзОŃала Đ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ»ŃŃала ŃплДŃĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. ĐĐ”ĐœŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃгаŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐŽŃŃ . ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃĐčŃĐž, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃДгŃаЎОла Đ”Đč ĐżŃŃŃ. ĐĄ ŃаŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐČ ŃŃĐșĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаŃĐșаŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž заŃĐČОла: «ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐаŃаŃŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ŃДбŃ?» Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńала. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐșĐž. «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃал, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐŸ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ĐœĐŸŃĐ°ĐŒ. ĐаĐș ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐ”Ń ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒĐžŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Ń ĐżĐ°ŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœ? ĐąŃ ĐžĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ±ĐžŃŃŃŃ.» ХжаĐČ ĐșŃлаĐșĐž, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «ĐĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐŒĐŸĐČа, ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”, а ĐœĐ” ĐČ Đ±ĐŸŃЎДлД. ĐŻ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° â ĐČŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ”, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ». «йŃ...» Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ĐșĐœŃла ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐŒĐŸŃалŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŒŃŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ, Đž Ńа бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐ”. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ĐČŃлОла ŃаŃĐșŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐœĐ° Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșажДŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ бДзŃĐŒĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла лОŃĐŸ ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž, заŃĐžŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐșОпŃŃĐșа. Đ ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸĐșа ĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐČŃлОлŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ŃŃĐșŃ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»Đ°. «ĐĐč! â Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлаŃŃ ĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž. â ĐąŃ ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ? ĐĄ ŃĐŒĐ° ŃĐŸŃла?» Đа ĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ пДŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐžĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžĐșĐž ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃЎалО за ĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ»ĐŸŃаЎŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐŸĐ»ĐżĐ° Đ·ŃĐžŃДлДĐč ĐœĐ°Ńала ŃĐČДлОŃĐžĐČаŃŃŃŃ. ĐĄĐșŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐČ ŃŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ° ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ: Â«Đ ĐŸŃĐșŃЎа ŃаĐșĐ°Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ? ĐąŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃОД ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ·ĐșĐ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐŸŃа? ĐąŃ ĐŸŃОбĐșа...» ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ Ń Đ»ĐŸĐżĐŸĐș. ĐĐŸŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заŃŃаĐČОла ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐŸĐșĐ” ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃла глаза. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО ŃĐžŃ Đ°Ń Đž ĐżĐŸĐșлаЎОŃŃĐ°Ń Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Ўала Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐœŃ? ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃОжала ŃŃĐșŃ Đș ŃĐ”ĐșĐ”, ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа ĐŸŃ ŃĐŸĐșа. ĐĄĐżŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала: «йŃ... ĐąŃ ŃЎаŃОла ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐșаĐș ŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃ!» Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐčĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”Ń ĐČзглŃĐŽ Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Đа, Ń ŃЎаŃОла ŃДбŃ! ĐажДŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐœĐ” ŃŃОлО ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃаŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸŃŃĐž!» ĐĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃла ŃĐŸĐŽĐžŃДлДĐč Đ”ŃŃ ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșŃĐŸ-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐł ĐČŃŃĐŒĐ”ĐžĐČаŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° глŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлаŃŃ. ĐŃĐŽŃŃĐž ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐŸĐč ĐаŃаŃа КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČа, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐČŃĐșла Đș ŃĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž лДŃŃĐž ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐč аЎŃĐ”Ń. ĐĄĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃла ĐČпДŃĐČŃĐ” ĐČ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа бŃĐŸŃОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, ĐșаĐș ŃазŃŃŃŃĐœĐœŃĐč бŃĐș, ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČа Đș ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃаĐș ĐșŃДпĐșĐŸ ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла запŃŃŃŃĐ” ŃĐŸĐżĐ”ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ńа ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° бŃла ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ” Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đč бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐžĐŒŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐž ĐČŃŃŃгалаŃŃ: «ĐĐ” ŃĐŒĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸĐłĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐłŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃŃŃĐŸĐœĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž! ĐąŃ ĐșĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°?! ĐąŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ĐžĐłŃŃŃĐșа ĐаŃаŃа! » РДзĐșОД ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐżŃĐžĐČлДĐșлО ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đč. «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ!» ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐŽĐž. ĐаŃĐ°Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОл ŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃĐŸŃ Ń, ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐžĐ· ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐžŃа. Đ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐČĐŸŃаŃОлаŃŃ ĐłŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐ°. «ĐаŃаŃ?» ĐŃĐŸĐČŃ ĐČ Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°Ń ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃла. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČŃДгЎа Đ±ĐŸŃлаŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ° ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Ńаз ĐżŃДЎŃĐżŃДжЎала Đ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐœŃла ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐžŃĐžŃ Đ¶Đ”ŃŃĐČŃ â ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлаŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐŸ заŃŃЎала. «ĐаŃаŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ! ĐĐœĐ° ŃЎаŃОла ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ!» ĐĄĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ŃĐœŃĐč ŃĐČĐ”Ń ŃĐœĐ°ŃŃжО паЎал ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸĐ” лОŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐŁŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșŃ, ĐŸŃпаŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐ”. ĐŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃŃ Đ”. ĐĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ Đž заЎал ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ: Â«ĐąŃ Đ·Đ°Đ±Ńла ĐżŃаĐČОла ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž?» ĐĐ·-за Đ”ĐłĐŸ лДЎŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃЎа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ заЎДŃжала ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃĐ°ĐŒ. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”Đ»ĐžĐČалŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐž Đ·ĐČŃĐșа. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńала, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżĐŸĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃŃŃаОĐČалаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ, ĐаŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐœĐŸ Ўал ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŃŃпп â ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ, гЎД ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бДзЎДлŃĐœĐžŃаŃŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐŽĐŸĐżŃŃĐșаŃŃ ĐŸŃОбĐșĐž. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐžŃĐžŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃДла ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃал лО ĐаŃĐ°Ń ŃДзĐșОД ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐČĐŸŃŃĐ»ŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ лО ĐŸĐœ ĐČОЎДл ĐČ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœŃŃ ĐžĐłŃŃŃĐșŃ? ĐĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃĐłĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐаŃаŃа, ŃĐŸĐ»ĐżĐ° ĐČŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”Đ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃĐČаŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»Đ”Đșа, ĐœĐ” Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ŃĐżŃŃĐșаŃŃ ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. Đ„ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐаŃаŃа заŃŃаĐČОл Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŽŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°ŃŃ. ĐĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа Ńжала Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐŸĐœĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°ĐČĐžŃŃ ŃĐŒĐŸŃОО. «ĐĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐŒĐŸĐČа. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃпОла ĐœĐ”ĐżŃаĐČОлŃĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃЎаŃОла ĐČаŃ». ĐĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ заЎŃала ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. «ĐŃ! ĐĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đč, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐżŃŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐșŃŃŃĐșа за ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž лОŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐŻ ĐœĐ”...» «РŃаĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, бДŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ОзĐČĐžĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐœĐŸ. Đ ŃДпДŃŃ, Đ”ŃлО ĐČŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐžĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐžŃĐ”, â Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃла ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ĐаŃаŃа, ĐœĐ” ŃĐŽĐŸŃŃĐŸĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đž ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐžŃĐŸ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČŃŃĐșĐžŃ ĐșŃаŃĐŸĐș. ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐČĐ”ŃгалаŃŃ ŃаĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃДгЎа бŃла Ń ŃĐ»ĐžĐłĐ°ĐœĐŸĐŒ, а ĐœĐ” жДŃŃĐČĐŸĐč! ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° бŃла ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČа ŃаŃĐșŃĐŸĐŒŃаŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃŃĐșĐž! ĐŁĐșазаĐČ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń ĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐșŃĐžĐșĐœŃла: «ĐаŃаŃ, ŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃал? ĐĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐœŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ°Đ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČаŃĐžĐČаŃŃ ĐČ ŃаĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸĐœĐ”! ĐĐŸŃŃаĐČŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐ” Ń ĐžĐ·ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ Đ”Ń ŃаĐș, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃаЎД!» ĐŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” лОŃа ĐаŃаŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐČ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ”ĐŒŃĐŒ. «ĐĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ!»â â Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč жОл Đž ĐŽŃŃал ĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč Đž жДŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃŃ, ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃДЎĐČĐșŃŃала, ŃŃĐŸ ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ°ĐłĐ»ŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ. ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐž ĐČĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃŃаĐČĐžŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐžŃĐœŃла Đ·ŃĐ±Ń Đž Đ·Đ»ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸ заŃĐČОла: «РŃлДЎŃŃŃĐžĐč Ńаз Ń ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐżŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐș.» «ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ°!»â ĐąĐŸĐœ Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃ ĐаŃаŃа ĐŽĐŸ жŃŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгалО ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽŃĐŸĐłĐœŃла. ĐĄ ĐŒŃаŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ лОŃа ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐ»: «Я ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃĐč Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐč Ńаз. ĐабŃĐŽŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐŃŃаĐČŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐ”Â». ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃлД. ĐŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, ŃазŃŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ... Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃĐœĐŸ...»â ĐаŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐŸŃОл ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ Đž Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОл Ń ĐаŃĐČĐ”Đ”ĐŒ. «Х ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃЎа ĐœĐ” ĐČĐżŃŃĐșаŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐœĐžŃ Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đč». ĐĐ” ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐžĐČ ŃĐŒŃŃла, ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃОла ĐаŃаŃŃ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐžĐŽĐ”Ń. ĐŃĐŸ ŃĐŸĐż-ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ” ĐșажЎŃĐč ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃĐż ŃŃЎа». ĐаŃĐČĐ”Đč ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ» ĐаŃаŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ” Đž ŃĐșазал ĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽ. «ĐĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐŒĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ŃŃЎа». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž Đ”ŃŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐč ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐČ ĐČĐžĐŽŃ ĐаŃаŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃалаŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐаŃĐČĐ”Đč ĐżŃДгŃаЎОл Đ”Đč ĐżŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐž ĐČŃĐČДлО Đ”Ń. ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐČОлО Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐž ĐșаплО ĐżĐŸŃаЎŃ, Đž Đ”Ń ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃĐșĐž ĐČŃŃĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸĐșазалОŃŃ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŃ. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃалŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐ” ĐаŃаŃа. Đ Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃŃĐŒĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł Đ”Ń ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОл ĐаŃĐČĐ”Đč. ĐĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐșазалаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ”Đ·ĐŽĐșĐž. Đ Đ°ĐœŃŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ŃлДпа, ĐœĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐČОЎДла ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń. Đ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ĐаŃаŃа ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐ”ĐŒ. ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ, Đ”ŃлО Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° бŃла Đ”ĐŒŃ Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃазлОŃĐœĐ°? ĐŃОбŃĐČ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла ĐŒĐ”ĐŽŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐŒĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ ŃĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ, Đž ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃДбŃ. ĐŃŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ Đ”Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșа жОла ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ŃĐ”ĐČĐœĐ” ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ Đž ĐŒĐžŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃĐ”, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń Đ±ŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ¶Đ”Đ»ŃĐŽĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐč. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐžĐČДзŃĐž бабŃŃĐșŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐабŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ” ĐČĐœŃŃĐșĐž. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃŃŃĐżŃОз. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃжД ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸĐșа бабŃŃĐșа ŃŃĐœŃŃ, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐčŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž. ĐЎалДĐșĐ”, ĐșĐŸ ĐČŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœŃĐč ŃŃŃĐœŃĐč аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ±ĐžĐ»Ń. Đлаза Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸŃДлОŃŃ â ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ ĐаŃаŃа. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» за ĐœĐ”Đč? Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±Ńла ĐČŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Ń, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐžŃĐżŃŃŃĐČала ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ паŃŃ ŃаŃĐŸĐČ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ. ĐĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ° ŃлОŃŃ ĐČŃŃДл ĐаŃаŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОла Đș ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ Ń ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃŃŃĐžĐŒŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐČ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ńла, ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐžĐ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОŃŃŃŃ. ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”Đč ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž Đž ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ. Đа Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐ” ĐŸŃŃажалОŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐłĐ° Đž ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŁĐ»ŃбĐșа ĐžŃŃДзла Ń Đ»ĐžŃа Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșŃĐŸĐČŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸĐłĐ°ĐŽĐșĐž бŃлО ĐŸŃĐžĐ±ĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž? ĐĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃОлŃŃ Đ»Đž ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč ĐаŃаŃ, ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐ”ĐșĐž ŃĐ»ŃŃ Đ°ĐŒ? ... ==== Đ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°, Đž ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ĐаŃаŃ. Đа ĐČŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐŽ бŃаĐșа Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° забДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”Đ»Đ°. Đ Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃДл Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč пДŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃбĐČĐž. ĐĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ. ĐĄĐżŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐŸĐŽŃ Đ”Ń ĐžĐŒŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČŃŃĐŽŃ. ĐаŃаŃŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐșŃаĐčĐœĐ” ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸ ŃДбД. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč-ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ°Ńал ŃĐșŃŃаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐČОЎДл Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃĐ”ĐčŃŃ Ń ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč. ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/12024418-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 | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/12024418-fb_contact-ruj57_2-0510-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213326171560790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465714126_1108290224152291_1667991243107963220_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=20nb4hB8UxsQ7kNvgEw_8D4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AAaB7joY46gebSO6HLsFiOo&oh=00_AYBVfcxDY34rz4-SB6G2OB9LYSnENkZacKBP-CIzmbrjLA&oe=6745A91B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Use Code SALE10 for 10% off | SHOP_NOW | https://lowsportgear.com/collections/usa-hockey-ho | Lowsportgear Miracle on Ice Collection | https://www.facebook.com/miracleonice/ | 3,488 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop Now | 0 | lowsportgear.com | CAROUSEL | https://lowsportgear.com/collections/usa-hockey-hoodies-collections | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465782521_534471786046209_5471614631901640692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=B3hXVMeH3O4Q7kNvgEdsJTb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AAaB7joY46gebSO6HLsFiOo&oh=00_AYCQAqd_yMvpg3xYcukSzlUWvJE-81UIuepX-hkvtuJibw&oe=6745952E | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lowsportgear Miracle on Ice Collection | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461342866_403665495877678_8039372569247806790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pi5R4WJUIpIQ7kNvgEzCJgZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5jz7ZpxlbeEAcuB0df0uRZ&oh=00_AYA1xM3BfwC6s0uVgyo0m4EuJJcAoaYUnYgSHWBC_o34PQ&oe=6745A035 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yo soy tuya y tĂș eres mĂo | DespuĂ©s del divorcio, finalmente se enterĂł de que a ella le habĂan diagnosticado depresiĂłn por su culpa. Se arrodillĂł y le rogĂł que lo perdonara, pero ella ya no querĂa amarlo... ===== CapĂtulo 1 El regreso de la exnovia Raegan Hayes estaba un poco distraĂda. No podĂa pensar en nada mĂĄs que en las palabras del mĂ©dico. "ÂĄFelicitaciones! EstĂĄ embarazada". De repente, Mitchel Dixon le pellizcĂł el brazo. "Oye, Âżen quĂ© estĂĄs pensando?". Antes de que ella pudiera responder, Mitchel se levantĂł. Luego, Ă©l entrĂł al baño. Raegan permaneciĂł inmĂłvil en la enorme cama. Sus mechones hĂșmedos se pegaban a sus sienes y mejillas. Estaba mirando al techo con los ojos llenos de lĂĄgrimas. DespuĂ©s de un rato, sacĂł el informe de embarazo del cajĂłn del velador. HabĂa ido al hospital por un incesante dolor de estĂłmago. Tras un anĂĄlisis de orina, el mĂ©dico le dio la noticia. ÂĄTenĂa alrededor de cinco semanas de embarazo! Era toda una sorpresa. Mitchel y ella nunca planeaban el embarazo. Tras devanarse los sesos, recordĂł el dĂa de la concepciĂłn. HabĂa sido el mes pasado, despuĂ©s de una fiesta. Mitchel la llevĂł a casa... Adentro del baño, se escuchaba correr el agua. Mitchel era su esposo y llevaban dos años casados en secreto. Era su jefe en el trabajo, el presidente del Grupo Dixon. Todo habĂa sucedido con suma rapidez. ReciĂ©n la habĂan contratado en la empresa cuando accidentalmente se conocieron en una fiesta. DĂas mĂĄs tarde, el abuelo de Mitchel enfermĂł de gravedad. Fue entonces cuando Ă©l propuso un matrimonio falso para cumplir el Ășltimo deseo del anciano. Ambos firmaron un acuerdo prenupcial y acordaron esconder su matrimonio al pĂșblico. Era probable que su uniĂłn terminara en cualquier momento. Era una ocasiĂłn poco convencional. Sin embargo, Raegan se consideraba afortunada. Ni en un millĂłn de años pensĂł que se casarĂa con el hombre del que estuvo enamorada durante ocho años, asĂ que aceptĂł con entusiasmo. Mitchel estuvo muy ocupado despuĂ©s de la boda, ya que trabajaba la mayor parte del tiempo. Raegan deseaba estar mĂĄs con Ă©l en casa. Pero se sentĂa tranquila porque no tenĂa rumores ni escĂĄndalos con otras mujeres. A pesar de su leve indiferencia, Mitchel era el esposo perfecto. Raegan tuvo sentimientos encontrados mientras observaba el resultado de la prueba de embarazo. Finalmente decidiĂł contarle la verdad a Mitchel. TambiĂ©n querĂa decirle que no lo habĂa conocido recientemente, sino que lo habĂa amado desde hacĂa muchos años. De repente, la ducha del baño dejĂł de sonar. En cuanto Mitchel saliĂł, sonĂł su telĂ©fono, asĂ que saliĂł al balcĂłn con una toalla de baño para contestar la llamada. Raegan comprobĂł la hora y vio que ya era medianoche. No pudo evitar sentirse incĂłmoda. ÂżQuiĂ©n lo llamaba a una hora tan intempestiva? Mitchel estuvo unos minutos en el balcĂłn. Luego, regresĂł a la habitaciĂłn. Su cuerpo era un espectĂĄculo digno de contemplar. TenĂa voluminosos abdominales en su vientre y sus brazos eran fuertes y musculosos. ÂĄEra un excelente hombre! Aunque Raegan lo habĂa visto asĂ antes, se sonrojĂł y su corazĂłn comenzĂł a acelerarse. Ajeno a sus miradas, Mitchel agarrĂł su camisa y sus pantalones de traje de la cama, se los puso y se anudĂł la corbata con sus delgados dedos. Su hermoso rostro tenĂa un contorno claro que lo hacĂa verse mĂĄs digno esa noche. Era toda una obra de arte. "No me esperes despierta". ÂżQuĂ©? ÂżIba a salir? ÂżA estas horas? Raegan agarrĂł con mĂĄs fuerza la prueba de embarazo mientras le daba una mirada decepcionada. Inconscientemente retirĂł la mano. "Ya es muy tarde", soltĂł despuĂ©s de pensar un rato. Los dedos de Mitchel se quedaron congelados sobre su corbata. Con una leve sonrisa, le pellizcĂł el lĂłbulo de la oreja. "ÂżTe da miedo la oscuridad?". Raegan se sonrojĂł hasta la raĂz del cabello. Estaba a punto de responder cuando Mitchel la soltĂł. "PĂłrtate bien, ÂżsĂ? Necesito hacer algo. No me esperes despierta". Tras esas palabras, se dirigiĂł hacia la puerta. "Mitchel". Raegan corriĂł para alcanzarlo. Mitchel se dio vuelta y la mirĂł con seriedad. "ÂżQuĂ© pasa?". HabĂa un ĂĄpice de frialdad en su voz. Una nube negra descendiĂł sobre ellos mientras se miraban fijamente. Un poco angustiada, Raegan dijo en voz baja: "Me gustarĂa visitar mañana a mi abuela. ÂżPuedes acompañarme?". Su frĂĄgil y enferma abuela siempre querĂa verla. Por eso querĂa llevar a Mitchel y asegurarle que eran muy felices. "Hablemos mañana al respecto". Sin aceptar ni negarse, Mitchel se marchĂł apresuradamente. Varios pensamientos rondaban la mente de Raegan mientras se duchaba y regresaba a la cama. No podĂa conciliar el sueño. Tras dar vueltas y vueltas, se levantĂł de la cama y se preparĂł un vaso de leche caliente. Algunas noticias en lĂnea llegaron a su telĂ©fono. Pero, como no le interesaban, estaba a punto de eliminarlas cuando una llamĂł su atenciĂłn. El conocido nombre la hizo abrir el artĂculo. La noticia decĂa: "La famosa diseñadora Lauren Murray fue vista hoy en el aeropuerto con su misterioso novio". Lauren llevaba un sombrero amplio. La figura del hombre se veĂa vaga, pero el contorno de su cuerpo bastaba para mostrar que era apuesto. Raegan agrandĂł la imagen y su corazĂłn dio un vuelco. ÂĄEra Mitchel! ÂżHabĂa cancelado la reuniĂłn de la tarde para recoger a su exnovia del aeropuerto? Raegan se sintiĂł molesta, como si tuviera una roca en el estĂłmago. Sus manos estaban temblando y marcĂł inconscientemente el nĂșmero de Mitchel. El tono de llamada la devolviĂł a sus sentidos. Estaba a punto de colgar cuando, de repente, se conectĂł la lĂnea y se escuchĂł una voz desde el otro lado. "ÂĄHola!". Era una suave voz de mujer. Raegan se quedĂł paralizada y tirĂł el telĂ©fono. Fue entonces cuando sintiĂł nĂĄuseas y la bilis subiĂł a su garganta. CubriĂ©ndose la boca, fue corriendo al baño y vomitĂł en la taza del vĂĄter. A la mañana siguiente, Raegan llegĂł temprano al trabajo. Mitchel le habĂa insistido en que dejara de trabajar despuĂ©s de casarse, pero ella querĂa ganar su propio dinero. A pesar de que no se opuso, Mitchel le pidiĂł que trabajara como su asistente y lo ayudara con las tareas diarias. Matteo Jenkins, el asistente principal, estaba a cargo de sus asuntos mĂĄs importantes. Era el Ășnico empleado de la empresa que sabĂa sobre su matrimonio. Desde el principio, la oficina del presidente solo tenĂa asistentes hombres. Reagan era la primera y Ășnica mujer. Su contrataciĂłn habĂa roto el protocolo, asĂ que otros trabajadores se preguntaban si estaba aquĂ por la puerta trasera o era alguien especial para Mitchel. Pero luego se dieron cuenta de que Ă©l no le daba un trato especial. Curiosamente, eso hizo que la despreciaran mĂĄs. DespuĂ©s de todo, la empresa es un campo de batalla. Era extraño que Raegan mantuviera tanto tiempo su trabajo siendo tan incompetente. En ese momento, uno de sus colegas le entregĂł un documento y le pidiĂł que lo llevara a la oficina de Mitchel. El hombre no habĂa regresado a casa anoche. Raegan estaba tan preocupada que no pudo pegar un ojo toda la noche. No podĂa pensar en nada mĂĄs que en la mujer que contestĂł su telĂ©fono cuando ella habĂa llamado. ÂżMitchel estaba con esta en aquel momento? Raegan no podĂa aceptar ese hecho. Pero intentĂł mantener la calma momentĂĄneamente. Pasara lo que pasara, merecĂa un resultado gratificante por todos sus años amando a Mitchel. No podĂa ser en vano, Âżverdad? Con mucha calma, presionĂł el botĂłn del ascensor y subiĂł a la oficina del presidente. Antes de salir, se alisĂł el cabello para asegurarse de tener buen aspecto. Cuando llegĂł a la oficina, vio que la puerta estaba entreabierta. Adentro se escuchaba la voz de un hombre, asĂ que se detuvo al instante. "ÂĄVamos! ÂżSientes algo por Raegan o no?". Era Luis Stevens, un amigo de la infancia de Mitchel. "ÂżQuĂ© quieres decir?", preguntĂł Mitchel frĂamente. "ÂĄSabes exactamente lo que quiero decir!". Luis chasqueĂł la lengua con impaciencia. "Raegan me parece una buena chica. ÂżNo es tu tipo?". "ÂżAcaso a ti te gusta ella?", preguntĂł Mitchel descuidadamente. "ÂżSabes quĂ©? ÂĄOlvĂdalo!". La risa de Luis sonĂł bastante dura en los oĂdos de Raegan. Hablaban de ella como si fuera una cosa. Respirando hondo, agarrĂł con mĂĄs fuerza el documento. Pronto volviĂł a escucharse la voz de Luis. "Por cierto, esta mañana vi los rumores sobre el misterioso novio de Lauren. Eras tĂș, Âżverdad?". "SĂ". "ÂĄVaya, vaya! Esa mujer todavĂa te tiene comiendo de la palma de su mano. Siempre la complaces". Luis suspirĂł y siguiĂł burlĂĄndose de Mitchel. "La ausencia aumenta el cariño. Dime, Âżustedes dos...?". Su conversaciĂłn explotĂł como un trueno sobre la cabeza de Raegan. Su rostro palideciĂł y su cuerpo se volviĂł tan frĂo como el hielo. ÂĄAsĂ que el que al lado de Lauren sĂ fue Mitchel! Cada palabra se clavĂł en su corazĂłn como un cuchillo. De repente, varias voces susurrantes llenaron su mente. Estaba mareada. Su visiĂłn se puso borrosa. Raegan se sostuvo de la pared y retrocediĂł un paso. Fue entonces cuando la puerta se abriĂł desde dentro. "ÂżRaegan?". CapĂtulo 2 Amor unilateral Fue Luis quien abriĂł la puerta, como si fuera a salir. Raegan juntĂł las manos y se volviĂł hacia Ă©l con un asentimiento. "ÂĄHola, señor Stevens!". Sin esperar una respuesta a su saludo, pasĂł junto a Ă©l y entrĂł a la oficina con el documento. Mitchel estaba sentado tras un amplio y lujoso escritorio. Se veĂa bastante guapo con ese traje y corbata a juego. Raegan notĂł que no era el mismo atuendo que llevaba cuando saliĂł de casa anoche. ÂżCĂłmo se habĂa cambiado? Con la mirada gacha, se tragĂł la pregunta y dijo: "Señor Dixon, esto es del Departamento de Marketing. Por favor, fĂrmelo". Mitchel mirĂł inexpresivo el documento mientras lo firmaba. Raegan saliĂł inmediatamente despuĂ©s. Luis aĂșn seguĂa parado en el umbral. No fue hasta que ella se perdiĂł de vista que se volviĂł hacia Mitchel. "ÂĄOye!", susurrĂł. "ÂżCrees que nos escuchĂł?". Los atractivos ojos de Mitchel no mostraron ninguna emociĂłn. Era obvio que no estaba escuchando a su amigo. En su opiniĂłn, Raegan siempre habĂa sido dĂłcil y nunca habĂa tenido celos de nadie. Su obediencia era todo lo que Ă©l le exigĂa a cambio de tratarla bien. En el ascensor, Raegan aguantĂł la respiraciĂłn para retener sus lĂĄgrimas. Pero no le funcionĂł. HabĂa pensado que dos años serĂan suficientes para que Mitchel se diera cuenta de lo mucho que ella lo amaba y le correspondiera. Ahora resultaba que no era mĂĄs que una ilusiĂłn. Siempre tendrĂa un papel secundario frente a Lauren, su verdadero amor. Reagan se secĂł las lĂĄgrimas una vez que el ascensor se detuvo. De no ser por su rostro pĂĄlido, se veĂa normal cuando se abrieron las puertas. Luego, fue hacia la sala de descanso para prepararse una taza de tĂ©. Varios empleados estaban charlando adentro. "Chicos, Âżse han enterado? Lauren Murray ha regresado del extranjero". "ÂżY quiĂ©n es ella?". "ÂĄOh, Dios mĂo! ÂżNo la conoces? Es la heredera del Grupo Murray y una diseñadora bastante reconocida. Y sobre todo es la Ășnica novia que el señor Dixon ha mostrado pĂșblicamente. ÂĄEs su primer amor!". "ÂżPor quĂ© es tan importante que haya vuelto? ÂżNo se rumorea que el señor Dixon tiene algo con Raegan?". "ÂżRaegan? ÂĄImposible! El señor Dixon nunca admitiĂł estar saliendo con ella, y es exigente a la hora de elegir pereja. Solo mĂrala. Ni siquiera es tan hermosa. Sin embargo, se comporta como si ya fuera la señora Dixon. ÂĄQuĂ© ridĂcula!". En la puerta, Raegan esbozĂł una sonrisa burlona mientras los escuchaba. Todos los demĂĄs veĂan la verdad excepto ella. Su amor era unilateral. "ÂĄJa, ja! ÂżLa señora Dixon se despertĂł de su sueño salvaje?". De repente, escuchĂł una voz detrĂĄs de sĂ. Raegan se volviĂł para encontrarse con Tessa Lloyd, la prima de Mitchel, quien siempre la habĂa despreciado. Tessa tambiĂ©n debĂa haber oĂdo los chismes de los empleados. Lo Ășltimo que Raegan querĂa era discutir con ella en la empresa, asĂ que se dio la vuelta para irse, pero la mujer le bloqueĂł el camino. Con una taza de cafĂ© en la mano, Tessa comentĂł sarcĂĄsticamente: "Lauren ha regresado. ÂżCrees que Mitchel te seguirĂĄ dando atenciĂłn?". Raegan se quedĂł callada. Tras unos segundos, Tessa continuĂł con sus burlas. "Me enterĂ© de que eres buena en fingir. ÂżQuĂ© pasarĂĄ si te desenmascaro delante de todos? SĂ© que te gusta la compañĂa de hombres...". Raegan apretĂł los puños. "Señorita Lloyd, estamos en la empresa", espetĂł. "Si te interesan esos negocios, ya sabes adĂłnde ir". "TĂș...". El rostro de Tessa se transformĂł. RĂĄpidamente levantĂł la mano y vaciĂł la taza de cafĂ© sobre Raegan. Esta Ășltima no pensĂł ni por un segundo que Tessa harĂa una locura como esa, asĂ que alzĂł los brazos para bloquear el lĂquido de su cara. El cafĂ© le quemĂł el brazo. "ÂĄAy!", gritĂł Raegan, frunciendo el ceño debido al dolor. "ÂżPor quĂ© hiciste eso? ÂżEstĂĄs loca?". Como era la hora del almuerzo, muchos empleados pudieron ver el escĂĄndalo. Tessa se mostrĂł aĂșn mĂĄs complaciente cuando vio que el nĂșmero de espectadores aumentaba. "ÂżPor quĂ© eres tan engreĂda?", escupiĂł. "ÂżDe verdad crees que todos no saben que eres una pobre sin padres? Y tienes el descaro de...". De repente, se escuchĂł un grito. Tessa habĂa sido silenciada por una bofetada. Ahora estaba boquiabierta. No habĂa esperado que la callada y tĂmida Raegan la abofeteara. Tessa se sostuvo la mejilla y se la quedĂł mirando un rato. "TĂș...", tartamudeĂł. "ÂżMe pegaste? ÂĄÂżCĂłmo te atreves?!". "ÂĄSĂ, te peguĂ©!", espetĂł Raegan. "Parece que necesitas aprender a tener cortesĂa". SĂ, habĂa perdido a sus padres cuando era niña, pero no permitirĂa que alguien la pisoteara por eso. Tessa crispĂł el rostro mientras fruncĂa el ceño rabiosamente. Como prima de Mitchel, estaba acostumbrada a que la elogiaran y respetaran. Esto nunca habĂa sucedido antes. "ÂĄRaegan!". Tessa arremetiĂł contra Raegan como un toro furioso y alzĂł la mano para devolverle la bofetada. Pero Raegan estaba preparada para lo que se avecinaba, asĂ que agarrĂł la muñeca de Tessa con tanta fuerza que esta no pudo moverse. Como era mĂĄs baja, luchĂł como un pulpo, cuyos tentĂĄculos se habĂan atascado en una trampa, "ÂżCĂłmo te atreves a ponerme tus sucias manos encima?", maldijo. "ÂżQuiĂ©n te crees que eres? ÂĄSolo eres la sirvienta de Mitchel!". Sus duras palabras atrajeron a mĂĄs personas a la sala de descanso. "ÂĄSuficiente!". De la nada, se escuchĂł una fuerte voz desde atrĂĄs. Mitchel habĂa salido de su oficina, solo para encontrarse con ese alboroto. Toda la sala se sumiĂł en un profundo silencio. "ÂżMitchell?". Tessa se quedĂł helada cuando vio a su primo, ya que siempre le habĂa tenido miedo. Su madre tambiĂ©n le advertĂa que no lo provocara. No obstante, cuando recordĂł a Raegan abofeteĂĄndola, puso una expresiĂłn lastimera y comenzĂł a sollozar. "Mitchel, mira mi rostro. ÂĄMe abofeteĂł!". La luz del sol caĂa sobre el hermoso rostro de Mitchel. Raegan se sintiĂł muy afligida y bajĂł la cabeza para mirar la parte posterior de su brazo, quemada por el cafĂ©. Las miradas de ambos se encontraron. Con el ceño fruncido, Mitchel dijo: "Raegan, Âżolvidaste las reglas de la empresa?". Raegan contuvo la respiraciĂłn ante su crueldad. No podĂa creer lo que estaba escuchando. Nadie se atreviĂł a hacer ningĂșn sonido. Raegan se quedĂł parada con su esbelta figura. Cuando la contrataron, Mitchel le advirtiĂł que el Grupo Dixon no era un lugar para que perdiera el tiempo y que no tolerarĂa ningĂșn error suyo. Raegan entendĂa por quĂ© adoptaba esa postura. No obstante, estaba desesperada por saber si habĂa oĂdo esas duras palabras de Tessa o si solo estaba fingiendo porque estaba de acuerdo. ÂżEn serio solo la veĂa como una sirvienta? Aterrada de recibir la ira de Mitchel, la multitud no tardĂł en dispersarse. Algunos empleados se atrevieron a mirar desde la distancia, pues no querĂa perderse de un buen espectĂĄculo. Raegan se estremeciĂł de pies a cabeza cuando vio los ojos frĂos de Mitchel. Mirando a Tessa, se pellizcĂł la palma de la mano para reprimir sus emociones. "Lo siento, señorita Lloyd. Como empleada del Grupo Dixon, fue mi error golpearla". Tessa alzĂł la barbilla con complacencia. "ÂĄJa! No crees que quedarĂĄs libre de culpa con una simple disculpa. No lo creo...". "La bofetada no tiene nada que ver con la empresa, asĂ que me niego a disculparme contigo. Ahora me retiro", agregĂł Raegan. Luego, pasĂł junto a Mitchel sin mirarlo de nuevo. "TĂș... ÂĄAlto!". Tessa estaba echando humo. JamĂĄs en toda su vida habĂa sido tan humillada. Siempre era la acosadora, no la vĂctima. La humillaciĂłn era tanta que ni siquiera se tranquilizarĂa haciendo pedazos a Raegan. "Mitchel, Âżescuchaste lo que acaba de decir esa mujer?", gritĂł señalĂĄndola. "A pesar de que me abofeteĂł, sigue siendo muy arrogante. Dile que regrese. ÂĄLa abofetearĂ© hasta que llore pidiendo piedad!". Mitchel observĂł la delgada espalda de Raegan con una expresiĂłn ambigua. "ÂĄBasta!", espetĂł alzando la mano. Tessa no creĂa que su primo tuviera debilidad por Raegan. Supuso que ella no le importaba en absoluto. "La prĂłxima vez, conseguirĂ© a alguien que le dĂ© una lecciĂłn a esa tipa", siseĂł con los dientes apretados. "ÂĄTessa!". Mitchel la reprendiĂł con un tono helado mientras entrecerraba los ojos. Tessa empezĂł a temblar. "Solo te lo dirĂ© una vez", agregĂł Ă©l sombrĂamente. "OlvĂdate de lo que pasĂł hoy. Deja tranquila a Raegan". Tessa sintiĂł su boca secarse. Todas las malvadas ideas que tenĂa contra Raegan desaparecieron en un instante. "EstĂĄ bien...", tartamudeĂł. "Entiendo...". Mitchel le lanzĂł una mirada frĂa y se volviĂł hacia Matteo. "A partir de hoy, las personas irrelevantes no tendrĂĄn permitida la entrada". Tessa empezĂł a halagar su decisiĂłn. "ÂĄMuy bien! Esta es una empresa muy importante. No todo el mundo puede entrar aquĂ". Matteo dio un asentimiento a su jefe, se acercĂł a Tessa y le mostrĂł la salida. "Señorita Lloyd, por aquĂ, por favor". Solo entonces Tessa se dio cuenta de que ella era la persona irrelevante. Si bien intentĂł hablar con su primo, Matteo le bloqueĂł el paso y los guardias de seguridad la echaron. No tuvieron ni un poco de piedad. Era inĂștil luchar. Mientras tanto, Raegan se cambiĂł de ropa cuando regresĂł a su oficina. TenĂa el corazĂłn lleno de tristeza mientras recordaba la mirada de Mitchel hacĂa unos minutos. Pronto llegĂł la hora de salida. Raegan tomĂł su bolso y se dirigiĂł hacia la puerta, pero Matteo la detuvo. "El señor Dixon tiene que resolver algo urgente, asĂ que me pidiĂł que la llevara a casa". Raegan lo rechazĂł sin pensarlo dos veces. Antes estaba ciega, pero ahora veĂa toda la situaciĂłn. No era nadie a los ojos de Mitchel. ÂżCĂłmo podĂa acompañarla a visitar a su abuela si ni siquiera se preocupaba por ella? Al llegar al hospital, Raegan encontrĂł a la enfermera a punto de darle la cena a su abuela. Raegan asumiĂł su puesto e hizo el trabajo. Su abuela siempre habĂa vivido en el campo, disfrutando de una vida tranquila. Pero todo cambiĂł el mes pasado, cuando su chequeo mĂ©dico mostrĂł que sus pĂĄncreas estaban mal. Raegan insistiĂł en traerla a la ciudad para que recibiera un mejor tratamiento. Su abuela no sabĂa sobre su matrimonio con Mitchel. Raegan habĂa planeado sorprenderla, pero ya no era necesario. Una vez que su abuela se quedĂł dormida, saliĂł del hospital y esperĂł un taxi. A lo lejos, un lujoso auto negro se detuvo en la entrada. Los ojos de Raegan se iluminaron. Era el vehĂculo de Mitchel. ÂżHabĂa venido para recogerla? En ese momento, olvidĂł todo el dolor que habĂa sufrido. ÂżLo habĂa malinterpretado? ÂżDe verdad se preocupaba por ella, contrariamente a los rumores? La puerta del conductor se abriĂł y Mitchel saliĂł del auto. Raegan caminĂł hacia Ă©l con el corazĂłn rebosante de alegrĂa. Pero se detuvo en seco. Mitchel acababa de caminar hacia el otro lado para sacar a una mujer del vehĂculo. Su hermoso rostro era una mĂĄscara de angustia y compasiĂłn. La sonrisa de Raegan desapareciĂł y su corazĂłn se hundiĂł. CapĂtulo 3 Hay que divorciarnos La figura alta de Mitchel se acercaba cada vez mĂĄs a Raegan; sin pronunciar una palabra, pasĂł junto a ella. Era difĂcil saber si realmente la vio o si decidiĂł ignorarla a propĂłsito. Raegan, por su parte, notĂł que la mujer que lo iba tomando del brazo era la misma que ayer fue fotografiada con Ă©l; su nombre era Lauren. Raegan sintiĂł como si sus zapatos estuvieran hechos de plomo mientras se alejaba, perdiendo por completo la nociĂłn de las cosas que sucedĂan a su alrededor; distraĂda, parĂł un taxi y lo abordĂł. De repente, el chĂłfer dijo: "Señorita, Âża dĂłnde la llevo?". Raegan quedĂł atĂłnita por un momento. Volver a su casa en Villas Serenity era el Ășltimo que querĂa hacer en ese momento, despuĂ©s de todo, era solo cuestiĂłn de tiempo antes de que ese lugar dejara de ser su hogar. DespuĂ©s de un rato, finalmente respondiĂł: "Por favor, llĂ©veme a Crystal Bay". Ella comprĂł un apartamento en dicha zona despuĂ©s de casarse con Mitchel. En su momento, tenĂa esperanzas de traer a su abuela a la ciudad, por lo que comprĂł ese apartamento con ayuda de una hipoteca; no era tan grande, pero tenĂa espacio mĂĄs que suficiente para dos personas. Su esposo nunca entendiĂł por quĂ© querĂa comprar un apartamento; incluso se ofreciĂł a regalarle uno mĂĄs grande, pero ella se negĂł. Al recapitular todo lo que hizo en el pasado, se dio cuenta de que comprar ese apartamento fue la Ășnica decisiĂłn acertada que tomĂł a lo largo de los Ășltimos dos años. Cuando llegĂł al complejo de apartamentos, Raegan se sentĂł sola en el patio, esto en un intento por despejar su mente. Los recuerdos de los Ășltimos dos años eran agridulces; el tiempo pareciĂł transcurrir en un abrir y cerrar de ojos a pesar de que fueron mĂĄs de setecientos dĂas y noches. Bien decĂan que el amor podĂa mover montañas, pero en el caso de Raegan, su amor no fue capaz de mover en lo mĂĄs mĂnimo aquella piedra llamada Mitchel. Finalmente se dio cuenta de lo tonta que fue, convirtiĂ©ndose en el hazmerreĂr de todos. Ya era tarde en la noche cuando la chica finalmente decidiĂł entrar a su apartamento. En cuanto saliĂł del ascensor, vio a su esposo parado frente a la puerta. Sus mangas estaban arremangadas casualmente y los botones superiores de su camisa desabrochados, lo que dejaba al descubierto su largo cuello y parte de su clavĂcula; apoyado en la pared junto a la puerta, su hermoso rostro lucĂa serio. Raegan se quedĂł paralizado por un momento. ÂżPor quĂ© Ă©l estaba ahĂ? ÂżNo se suponĂa que estaba en el hospital con Lauren? ÂżQuĂ© lo trajo aquĂ? Sus ojos se encontraron casi de inmediato. Con el abrigo doblado sobre su brazo y una de las manos en el bolsillo, el hombre entrecerrĂł los ojos en cuanto se percatĂł de su presencia. "ÂżPor quĂ© no contestaste el telĂ©fono?", preguntĂł Ă©l con un poco de molestia en su tono. Raegan sacĂł su celular y vio que accidentalmente lo habĂa puesto en modo silencioso; descubriĂł que tenĂa cinco llamadas perdidas de su esposo. ÂżMitchel le hizo tantas llamadas porque no pudo encontrarla? ÂĄEra un suceso sorprendente! Antes de hoy, esto la habrĂa hecho sentir fascinada. Pero ahora, la chica simplemente puso de vuelta su celular en su bolso, se cruzĂł de brazos y dijo con voz ronca: "No lo escuchĂ© sonar". Mitchel levantĂł la mano para revisar la hora en su reloj antes de pronunciar con impaciencia: "Te estuve buscando durante dos horas seguidas". DespuĂ©s de arreglar todo para Lauren, regresĂł a casa solo para encontrarla vacĂa. BuscĂł a su esposa por todas partes, pero al no hallarla por ningĂșn lado, le pidiĂł a Matteo que revisara las imĂĄgenes de las cĂĄmaras de vigilancia de todos los caminos que salĂan de la empresa. MĂĄs tarde descubriĂł que la chica habĂa ido a Crystal Bay sin notificarle con antelaciĂłn. "La prĂłxima vez avĂsame cuando tengas planeado venir aquĂ, Âżde acuerdo? Anda, volvamos a casa", dicho esto, el hombre caminĂł hacia el ascensor sin dedicarle otra mirada, mostrando abiertamente su intenciĂłn de volver a las Villas Serenity. Pese a sus palabras, Raegan no se moviĂł ni un centĂmetro; ella se limitĂł a mirar su ancha espalda mientras reflexionaba con cierto disgusto. QuerĂa que le avisara cuando tuviera planeado volver aquĂ... Pero, Âżacaso habrĂa un futuro para ambos? Mitchell se dio vuelta solo para ver que su esposa no habĂa avanzado ni un solo paso. Frunciendo el ceño, Ă©l le preguntĂł: "ÂżNo puedes caminar? ÂżQuieres que te cargue?". La luz del pasillo iluminaba su rostro, haciendo que su perfil lateral luciera casi perfecto. La chica respirĂł hondo antes de declarar: "Hay que divorciarnos". "ÂżDe quĂ© hablas?", la voz de Mitchel sonĂł frĂa y su hermoso rostro cambiĂł de inmediato. "Quiero vivir en mi propia casa, despuĂ©s de todo, pronto nos convertiremos en completos extraños". La chica forzĂł una sonrisa, pero su corazĂłn se estrujĂł dolorosamente, como si alguien lo estuviera destrozando poco a poco. "ÂżSeremos completos extraños?", Mitchel sonriĂł con frialdad antes de lanzar una pregunta directa: "ÂżQuĂ© clase de relaciĂłn crees que sostenemos actualmente?". Su interrogatorio dejĂł a Raegan atĂłnita por un momento. Este hombre se lo habĂa dejado muy en claro desde el principio; su matrimonio era una mera fachada que se produjo de mutuo acuerdo y donde no existĂa el amor. En opiniĂłn de los demĂĄs, no eran mĂĄs que jefe y subordinada. Mitchel era uno de los hombres mĂĄs atractivos y codiciados en Ardlens; muchas jĂłvenes ansiaban su amor e incluso estaban dispuestas a emprender toda clase de acciones con tal de obtener su atenciĂłn. La pregunta que le hizo momentos atrĂĄs le recordĂł a la chica todos estos hechos. ÂżAcaso Mitchel tenĂa miedo de que ella no lo dejara ir tan fĂĄcilmente? Si ese fuera el caso, no podrĂa estar mĂĄs equivocado... DespuĂ©s de morderse el labio inferior para ocultar su amargura, Raegan dijo: "Lo siento, señor Dixon. Creo que pensĂ© demasiado las cosas, pero sĂ necesito que de ahora en adelante me dejes en paz. No tienes que volver a venir aquĂ". DespuĂ©s de decir eso, ella no pudo evitar romper en llanto. ÂżCĂłmo no iba a estar triste despuĂ©s de cortar todo vĂnculo con el hombre que habĂa amado durante una dĂ©cada? Se trataba de un periodo bastante considerable, pero independientemente de lo difĂcil que fuera, sabĂa que era hora de superarlo; tenĂa que dejar de soñar. Curiosamente, en ese momento la luz del pasillo empezĂł a parpadear. La mirada hostil que Mitchel le estaba dedicando a la chica hizo que la chica se estremeciera. Aunque Ă©l entendĂa que las mujeres a veces se comportaban de manera extraña, sentĂa que Raegan acababa de cruzar la lĂnea. Los ojos del hombre brillaban como antorchas ardientes en ese momento, pero cuando vio las lĂĄgrimas que derramaba su esposa, la rabia dentro de Ă©l se extinguiĂł al instante. Entonces, dijo en voz baja: "Si esto es por lo que pasĂł entre Tessa y tĂș, yo...". "No, no se trata de ella. Señor Dixon, por favor, vete lo antes posible". En realidad habĂan sucedido muchas cosas entre ambos, y el incidente con Tessa era el mĂĄs insignificante de todos. SintiĂ©ndose exhausta, Raegan pasĂł junto a su esposo y se preparĂł para abrir la puerta. Mitchel no estaba nada satisfecho con esta exhibiciĂłn de terquedad; tras desatarse la corbata con irritaciĂłn, Ă©l dio un paso adelante y la agarrĂł por la muñeca. "Detente, Âżquieres?". Un segundo despuĂ©s, le pasĂł el brazo por el hombro y la abrazĂł; en ese instante se dio cuenta de que la chica estaba ardiendo, como si alguien acabara de prenderle fuego. "ÂżTienes fiebre?". Raegan se sintiĂł mareada, por lo que apoyĂł dĂ©bilmente la cabeza sobre el hombro de su esposo. Esto complicĂł aĂșn mĂĄs la situaciĂłn; Mitchel bajĂł la cabeza para mirarla. Reagan tardĂł en percatarse de lo que estaba sucediendo; cuando finalmente se dio cuenta de que su cuerpo estaba demasiado cerca del de Ă©l, tratĂł de alejarse. Para su mala suerte, antes de que pudiera escapar, el hombre tirĂł de ella hacia atrĂĄs y la sujetĂł por la cintura. Con una expresiĂłn gĂ©lida, dijo en voz baja: "ÂżA dĂłnde crees que vas?". La luz volviĂł a parpadear. De la nada, Mitchel la levantĂł y luego se dirigiĂł al ascensor. Aturdida, Raegan preguntĂł suavemente: "ÂżQuĂ© estĂĄs haciendo?". "ÂżQuĂ© te parece que estoy haciendo?", comentĂł Ă©l. "Obviamente te voy a llevar al hospital". "ÂĄPor supuesto que no!", la chica gritĂł a causa de la sorpresa y pareciĂł recuperar mĂĄs fuerzas. ExistĂa la posibilidad de que se complicara su embarazo en caso de recibir un tratamiento inadecuado; aunque el bebĂ© no llegĂł en un momento adecuado, seguĂa siendo su pequeño y era su deber protegerlo. Raegan siguiĂł luchando por liberarse de los brazos que la mantenĂan cautiva. Sin embargo, su fuerte agarre hizo que sus esfuerzos fueran en vano. "No seas tan terca. EstĂĄs enferma, asĂ que debes ver al mĂ©dico", le aclarĂł Mitchel con firmeza mientras caminaba hasta el ascensor con ella en brazos. De repente, ella le dio una patada en señal de protesta. "ÂĄBĂĄjame! ÂĄNo quiero ir al hospital!". &15& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/11878375-fb_contact-spj | 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/11878375-fb_contact-spj57_8-c201-0506-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1164004058227180&rawadid=120214131293880186 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466406927_1296115984734079_2748100250690813793_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=376MInhAumwQ7kNvgFdANPy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=At2EQIex-FBvciRc4csE8By&oh=00_AYA3kIBVSJL8r972ddXG-lkLjQiXL5AIza6y4RUTb5GRMg&oe=67459D40 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Vuelve conmigo, amor mĂo | DespuĂ©s de tres años de matrimonio, su marido rara vez volvĂa a casa. La Ășnica vez que tenĂa intimidad con ella era para complacer a los mayores. El dĂa del difĂcil parto, su marido aviĂłn privado al extranjero con su amante. ÂĄDesconsolada, decidiĂł divorciarse de Ă©l! ===== Joelle Miller examinĂł minuciosamente el feed de Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudiando con mucha atenciĂłn cada video, ansiosa por ver el rostro del novio de Rebecca. Rebecca, la protagonista de los videos, irradiaba ternura y delicadeza con su sencillo vestido blanco. Si bien no era tan bella, tenĂa una genuina sencillez y una sonrisa encantadora. HabĂa descubierto que, en los dĂas importantes, Nochebuena, San ValentĂn e incluso el cumpleaños de Joelle, Rebecca estaba con Adrian Miller, su supuesto esposo, quien se habĂa ausentado de todos esos dĂas durante los Ășltimos tres años. Esas alegres narraciones sobre su vida con su novio fueron mĂĄs que suficientes para hundirla en la tristeza. "ÂżLo ven? Ăl siempre guarda para mĂ la parte mĂĄs jugosa de una sandĂa". "Incluso cuando llega tarde a casa, siempre me trae algo". "ÂĄY miren esta sorpresa! RecogiĂł de la iglesia un amuleto de bendiciĂłn para mĂ". ...... El nombre de usuario era "Cuenta Regresiva Hacia la Muerte", la Ășnica cuenta a la que Joelle seguĂa. Justo cuando reflexionaba sobre el siniestro nombre, la puerta del baño se abriĂł. En la habitaciĂłn poco iluminada apareciĂł Adrian. Gotas de agua caĂan de su cabello. A pesar de la tenue iluminaciĂłn, sus atractivos rasgos permanecĂan intactos. Joelle cerrĂł instintivamente su celular y le dio una mirada reflexiva. HacĂa mucho tiempo desde la Ășltima vez que lo vio. Esa noche Ă©l no estaba ahĂ por decisiĂłn propia. Su abuela, Irene Miller, estaba enferma y, como querĂa un bisnieto con desesperaciĂłn, lo obligĂł a regresar. De lo contrario, tal vez nunca hubiera venido. Durante sus tres años de matrimonio, Adrian pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo en Villas Oak, por lo que rara vez estaba en casa. Todos sabĂan que en realidad no amaba a Joelle. Estaba atrapada en un matrimonio por conveniencia. "Solo te voy a dar una oportunidad. El destino dirĂĄ si quedas e**arazada o no", declarĂł Adrian con una voz resonante. ÂżQuĂ© querĂa decir? Antes de que Joelle pudiera seguir pensando, Adrian la agarrĂł del tobillo y la atrajo hacia Ă©l. Joelle palideciĂł ante su crueldad, su cuerpo se tensĂł de miedo. "ÂĄAdrian! Basta, no quiero...". EmpezĂł a luchar frenĂ©ticamente. Era una completa humillaciĂłn verse obligada a vivir en esa situaciĂłn con el hombre que amaba. Adrian hizo una mueca de desprecio. "Te atreviste a diseño una vez, asĂ que debiste haberlo visto venir. Solo aguĂĄntalo". Ante esas duras palabras, los ojos de Joelle se llenaron de lĂĄgrimas y sus pestañas bailaron como mariposas heridas. Mirando su rostro severo, dijo con voz temblorosa: "Las cosas no fueron lo que imaginabas..." Pero sus protestas fueron interrumpidas. Su resistencia se desvaneciĂł a medida que la desesperaciĂłn se apoderaba de ella. "Has aprendido que hacerte la difĂcil es mucho mĂĄs interesante que quedarse tirada como un pez muerto", comentĂł con rencor. DespuĂ©s de ducharse, se marchĂł sin mirar atrĂĄs, como si no quisiera quedarse mĂĄs tiempo ahĂ. Joelle no entendĂa quĂ© papel tenĂa en su vida. ÂżSolo era un juguete para su placer? ÂżO una herramienta para cumplir las expectativas de su familia de tener un heredero? La ventana estaba completamente abierta, por lo que entraba un gĂ©lido y cortante viento. A Joelle se le erizaron los pelos de la nuca y se arropĂł mĂĄs con su manta. No solo temblaba de frĂo, sino que sentĂa su corazĂłn desgarrado, ahora no conocĂa en absoluto al hombre que habĂa adorado durante casi ocho años. Tres años atrĂĄs, en un lujoso banquete organizado por la familia Miller, Joelle bebiĂł demasiado. Cuando se despertĂł, en la con Adrian. Antes de que pudiera asimilar lo que estaba pasando, su hermano y varios miembros de su familia irrumpieron. Ya no podĂa revertir lo sucedido. La abuela de Adrian tomĂł las riendas y organizĂł su matrimonio. Desde entonces, Ă©l estaba convencido de que Joelle lo habĂa hecho a propĂłsito. A ella le desconcertaba su profunda animosidad, por mĂĄs que creyera que lo habĂa d**gado. DespuĂ©s de todo, habĂan crecido juntos. Pero ahora lo entendĂa todo. Para Ă©l, ella no era mĂĄs que la nefasta mujer que habĂa saboteado su relaciĂłn con Rebecca. A menudo pensaba en lo perfecto que Ă©l se veĂa en los videos de Rebecca, siempre tan gentil y atento. Probablemente nunca le mostrarĂa esa misma ternura. No pudo contener mĂĄs las lĂĄgrimas y sucumbiĂł a un ataque de sollozos. Esa noche no pudo dormir bien. Tuvo sueños sobre el pasado, cuando ella y Adrian no estaban en malos tĂ©rminos. Debido a su angustia, Joelle se levantĂł inusualmente temprano. DespuĂ©s de lavarse, se puso ropa de casa y bajĂł las escaleras. Leah Jenkins, la empleada domĂ©stica con muchos años de servicio, la vio bajar y rĂĄpidamente puso la mesa con el desayuno, ya que conocĂa sus preferencias dietĂ©ticas. Joelle se tomĂł su tiempo para comer lentamente. "Señora Miller, Âżpor quĂ© anoche no convenciĂł a su esposo para que se quedara? No viene a casa a menudo", comentĂł Leah con simpatĂa. HabĂa sido sirvienta de la familia Miller durante muchos años, por lo que habĂa visto cĂłmo los dos se convertĂan de amigos de la infancia a enemigos. Joelle se mostrĂł incĂłmoda, pero lo ocultĂł con una sonrisa serena. "Lo intentĂ©, pero no quiso quedarse". Incluso si pudiera mantener a Adrian cerca, Ă©l tenĂa el corazĂłn en otra parte. MĂĄs concretamente, en Villas Oak, el hogar de la mujer que realmente amaba. Leah dudĂł y agregĂł con cautela: "Tal vez sea porque el señor Miller estĂĄ muy ocupado con la empresa. Dirigir una compañĂa tan grande requiere mucho tiempo". Tres años atrĂĄs, le habĂan reasignado para cuidar de Joelle, asĂ que entendĂa los entresijos de ese matrimonio mejor que nadie. Su perspicacia trajo consigo una sincera simpatĂa hacia ella. Las pestañas de Joelle temblaron mientras mordisqueaba su tostada. Sus ojos se llenaron de lĂĄgrimas debido a la tensiĂłn emocional. SĂ, Adrian estaba muy ocupado, pero siempre tenĂa tiempo para Rebecca. Frecuentaba la Iglesia RedenciĂłn en busca de un amuleto de bendiciĂłn para ella. A pesar de su apretada agenda, siempre pasaba las vacaciones con ella. De repente, su celular rompiĂł el silencio. Cuando Leah saliĂł del comedor, Joelle agarrĂł el dispositivo y vio que era una llamada de su mejor amiga, Katherine Nash. "Katherine, quiero el divorcio", confesĂł con voz ronca. CapĂtulo 2 En declive Joelle habĂa tomado una decisiĂłn: querĂa el divorcio. No tenĂa sentido seguir alargĂĄndolo. Tras un silencio atĂłnito, Katherine soltĂł una estridente carcajada. "ÂżTe quedarĂĄs con la mitad de los bienes de Adrian? ÂĄOh, por Dios! ÂĄJoelle, te convertirĂĄs en una multimillonaria!". "No, no serĂĄ asĂ". Joelle habĂa firmado un acuerdo cuando se casĂł con Adrian. Si se divorciaban, ella no recibirĂa nada. "Entonces, Âżpor quĂ© te estĂĄs divorciando? ÂĄTienes que seguir siendo su esposa!". Joelle recordĂł la brutalidad de Adrian la noche anterior, asĂ como la humillaciĂłn posterior. HabĂa sido muy ingenua al creer que su amor por Ă©l la ayudarĂa a soportar cualquier dificultad. Pero ahora sabĂa que habĂa sido una completa tonta. ÂżEl sufrimiento hacĂa que Adrian la amara mĂĄs? Claro que no. Para empezar, un hombre que realmente la amara nunca le harĂa sufrir. Joelle se rio de sĂ misma y cambiĂł de tema: "Por cierto, Âżrecuerdas el favor que te pedĂ?". "SĂ, justo te iba a contar eso. Me pediste que estuviera atenta a un trabajo, y tengo algo para ti. Vas a enseñar a un estudiante a tocar el violĂn, aunque debo decir que serĂĄ un desperdicio de tu talento". "EstĂĄ bien", respondiĂł Joelle con una leve sonrisa. "No serĂĄ un desperdicio en absoluto. Llevo tres años siendo ama de casa. Es suficiente con que alguien quiera contratarme". "ÂżCĂłmo que no serĂĄ un desperdicio? Casi formaste parte de una orquesta internacional. Si no fuera por el matrimonioâŠ". Katherine se quedĂł en silencio, demasiado indignada por su amiga. DespuĂ©s de su boda, a Joelle ni siquiera le permitieron trabajar. Las familias adineradas se aferraban a esas reglas obsoletas. Era bastante ridĂculo. HacĂa tres años, la carrera de Joelle como violinista despegaba. Pero las estrictas tradiciones de la familia Miller le prohibĂan tocar en pĂșblico. El primer dĂa de su matrimonio, la madre de Adrian le dijo: "No tienes que trabajar. Adrian te proveerĂĄ en todo lo que necesites. Tu Ășnico trabajo es tener bebĂ©s y cuidar a tu esposo". Una vez que terminĂł su llamada con Katherine, Joelle subiĂł las escaleras y fue al estudio para agarrar su violĂn abandonado. HabĂa sido un regalo especial de su padre en su decimoctavo cumpleaños. No obstante, poco despuĂ©s de recibirlo, este sufriĂł un derrame cerebral y cayĂł en coma. Su hermano mayor terminĂł asumiendo la responsabilidad de sustentar a la familia, asĂ que la dejĂł perseguir su sueño de tocar el violĂn. Mientras recordaba el pasado, Joelle moviĂł el arco sobre las cuerdas. Años atrĂĄs, un accidente le habĂa lesionado la muñeca y desde entonces no habĂa vuelto a tocar. A pesar del dolor agudo que sentĂa en esa zona mientras tocaba, no se detuvo y confiĂł en su memoria muscular para tocar una pieza corta. Al final, soltĂł una risa amarga. Sonaba horrible. De repente, escuchĂł la alegre voz de Leah en la puerta. "ÂĄSeñor, ha regresado!". Estaba secretamente aliviada de ver a Adrian, ya que eso tal vez significaba que todavĂa se preocupaba por Joelle. QuizĂĄs si ella le decĂa algo amable, su relaciĂłn podrĂa mejorar. Por su parte, Joelle estaba sorprendida. Adrian rara vez venĂa a casa durante el dĂa. Apenas habĂa dejado el violĂn cuando se abriĂł la puerta. AhĂ estaba la alta e imponente figura de su esposo. Sus ojos la recorrieron con el ceño fruncido. Recordaba que Joelle habĂa aprendido a tocar el violĂn cuando era niña y que un reconocido profesor la habĂa elogiado por su talento. Sin embargo, por alguna razĂłn, habĂa dejado de tocar. HacĂa un momento, la habĂa escuchado desde afuera y le pareciĂł una interpretaciĂłn mediocre. ÂżCĂłmo era posible que la elogiara por su talento? Joelle lo mirĂł y bajĂł la cabeza para volver a guardar el violĂn en su estuche. "ÂżQuĂ© te trae por aquĂ?", murmurĂł. "ÂżNecesitas algo?". "Vine a recoger algo y recordarte que mañana tenemos que visitar a la abuela", respondiĂł Ă©l frĂamente. Era una regla familia visitar a su abuela al menos una vez al mes, y mañana era el dĂa. De no ser por esa obligaciĂłn, Adrian no habrĂa regresado. Irene se enfadarĂa si no iban juntos. Joelle sonriĂł con amargura. Recordaba las normas de los Miller mejor que Adrian y siempre las cumplĂa. Ni siquiera Irene, tan estricta como siempre, podĂa encontrarle defectos. "No lo he olvidado, me alegra que tĂș tampoco lo hayas hecho", respondiĂł. Su tono acusatorio hizo que Adrian pusiera una mueca. Una ira latente empezĂł a hervir dentro de Ă©l. Sin decir nada mĂĄs, se dirigiĂł al vestidor para buscar algo. Aunque Ă©l no solĂa estar en casa, Joelle aseaba meticulosamente su guardarropa, por lo que tenĂa la ropa lavada, planchada y ordenada. Era como si su papel se redujera a realizar las tareas del hogar, algo que Leah tambiĂ©n podĂa hacer. Su Ășnica ventaja, tal vez, era ser mĂĄs joven y mĂĄs guapa que Leah. Sus ojos siguieron los movimientos de Adrian. TenĂa el dedo anular desnudo, sin el anillo de bodas. Una punzada de dolor le atravesĂł el corazĂłn. "Adrian, hay que divorciarnos", declarĂł con una voz tan suave como la brisa. HabĂa agotado todas sus fuerzas al pronunciar esas palabras, pero se sintiĂł extrañamente aliviada. Adrian se dio la vuelta y la mirĂł con una sonrisa burlona. "Tienes que pensar muy bien antes de hablar. La familia Watson estĂĄ en declive. Sin mi apoyo, Âżvas a dormir en la calle con tu hermano?". Desde la caĂda de la familia Watson, Joelle pasĂł de ser amada a quedar en ridĂculo. La familia Miller la despreciaba y la miraba por encima del hombro, como si ella y su hermano fueran sanguijuelas de las que no podĂan librarse. Incluso sus momentos Ăntimos con Adrian la hacĂan sentir degradada. Joelle se mordiĂł el labio y se enderezĂł. "Ya he alquilado un apartamento. Incluso si terminara durmiendo en la calle, es asunto mĂo". Solo querĂa que su esposo la respetara, pero tres años de cautiverio la habĂan dejado sin orgullo ni dignidad. "ÂżY de dĂłnde sacaste el dinero para alquilar un apartamento? Si tanto querĂas ser independiente, no deberĂas haber gastado ni un solo centavo de mi familia". De espaldas a ella, Adrian encontrĂł entre unos muebles el anillo de bodas perdido y lo sostuvo en la palma de su mano. Joelle no se dio cuenta. Las palabras de ese hombre la dejaron sin aliento. SĂ, habĂa utilizado sus escasos ahorros para alquilar el apartamento. Pero como estaba casada con Adrian, Âżlo que era suyo no era tambiĂ©n de Ă©l? AdemĂĄs, el apoyo financiero que Adrian les habĂa dado a los Watson durante todos esos años ascendĂa a una suma significativa. Joelle siempre habĂa despreciado la idea de deberle algo, pero su deuda con Ă©l era infinita. Si se divorciaban, tal vez dejarĂa de darle apoyo financiero a la familia Watson. ÂżEstaba sugiriendo que ella debĂa salir del matrimonio con las manos vacĂas? Cuando Adrian se dio la vuelta para irse, Joelle dijo con una dignidad apenas intacta: "Tengo derecho legĂtimo a este matrimonio y a reclamar lo que supuestamente es mĂo. Pero no te preocupes, no pedirĂ© mucho, solo lo suficiente para ayudar al Grupo Watson a superar esta crisis". Adrian se quedĂł paralizado y su mirada se agudizĂł. Sus labios formaron una fina lĂnea mientras apretaba la mandĂbula. Eran claras señales de su creciente furia. Aunque Joelle ya se habĂa preparado mentalmente, no podĂa soportar su intensidad. Cada segundo bajo su mirada severa la ponĂa mĂĄs ansiosa. De repente, sonĂł el celular de Adrian, quien lo sacĂł de su bolsillo y estuvo a punto de alejarse. "ÂĄAdrian!". CapĂtulo 3 Siempre mantendrĂ© la cabeza en alto La frustraciĂłn de Adrian crepitaba como estĂĄtica. "Si tu hermano necesita dinero, dile que vaya al Grupo Miller". "ÂĄNo se trata de eso!", replicĂł Joelle. La habĂa malinterpretado por completo. Con el corazĂłn latiendo con urgencia, corriĂł tras Ă©l. "ÂĄAdrian, quiero el divorcio!". Adrian dejĂł de subir las escaleras y girĂł la cabeza. El celular en su mano habĂa dejado de sonar. Con un metro noventa de altura, se alzaba sobre ella. "Joelle, Âżno se te ocurre un mejor juego que este interminable tira y afloja?", preguntĂł burlonamente con una mirada gĂ©lida. "Si de verdad quieres divorciarte, Âżpor quĂ© no se lo dices tĂș misma a la abuela? ÂĄNo quiero volver a escucharte pronunciar esa palabra!". La puerta se cerrĂł de golpe detrĂĄs de Ă©l, haciendo eco a su irrevocable decisiĂłn. Joelle se apoyĂł contra la pared y sus piernas cedieron hasta que se deslizĂł al suelo. Una risa amarga emergiĂł de sus labios. Irene habĂa organizado su matrimonio. Adrian se habĂa visto obligado a aceptar, y Joelle lo sabĂa muy bien. Si de verdad querĂa el divorcio, lo mĂĄs efectivo serĂa hablar con Irene. Sin embargo, una pequeña y estĂșpida parte de ella se habĂa aferrado a la esperanza de que ella y Adrian eran una verdadera pareja. Por eso se lo habĂa mencionado primero a Ă©l, porque lo veĂa como su esposo. Sin embargo, olvidĂł un detalle crucial: Adrian nunca habĂa querido casarse con ella. Su reticencia habĂa sido evidente desde el principio, aunque ella habĂa intentado pasarla por alto. Sus Ășltimas palabras no solo fueron despectivas, sino una orden. Si de verdad querĂa el divorcio, deberĂa enfrentarse a Irene. Joelle se dio una ducha, se puso ropa limpia y se preparĂł para visitar a la anciana. Irene era estricta, autoritaria y temida por toda la familia. Gobernaba con puño de hierro y no toleraba la desobediencia. Pero Joelle tenĂa un vĂnculo muy especial con ella. En parte, habĂa aceptado casarse con Adrian para cumplir las expectativas de Irene. QuerĂa cuidar de Adrian, construir un hogar y asegurarse de que la anciana falleciera sin remordimientos. Pero ahora ya no aguantaba mĂĄs. Ver a Adrian tan preocupado por otra mujer le llenaba de una amargura que parecĂa consumirla. Era consciente de que Ă©l no la amaba. ÂĄNunca lo hizo y nunca lo harĂa! Estaba a punto de irse cuando sonĂł su celular. Era su hermano, Shawn Watson. "ÂżShawn? ÂżQuĂ© ocurre?". "ÂĄSeñora Miller!". Era el asistente de Shawn. Su voz sonaba muy asustada, algo que Joelle nunca habĂa escuchado. Se le helĂł la s**gre y agarrĂł el celular con mĂĄs fuerza mientras permanecĂa en la escalera. "ÂżDĂłnde estĂĄ mi hermano? ÂżQuĂ© le pasĂł?". "Anoche el señor Watson asistiĂł a una reuniĂłn de negocios, donde lo presionaron para que b*iera. Supuestamente volverĂa a casa, pero Erick Lloyd insistiĂł en llevarlo a unas aguas termales". Joelle se quedĂł congelada y la furia recorriĂł sus venas. "ÂżErick no sabĂa que eso podrĂa matarlo?". "ÂĄErick es un s**vergĂŒenza! Se jacta de su poder desde que su padre y su hermano se volvieron chĂłferes de la familia Miller. ÂĄSeñora Miller, tiene que venir rĂĄpido! El señor Watson estĂĄ siendo operado y los mĂ©dicos han emitido dos avisos de condiciĂłn crĂtica. ÂĄNo pude aguantar mĂĄs, asĂ que la llamĂ©!". El asistente parecĂa estar al borde de las lĂĄgrimas. Joelle sabĂa que Ă©l no se habrĂa puesto en contacto con ella a menos que la situaciĂłn fuera bastante desesperada. Shawn siempre la habĂa protegido de las malas noticias, sin importar lo sombrĂas que fueran las circunstancias. Si su asistente estaba tan conmocionado, la vida de su hermano debĂa estar en peligro. Joelle sintiĂł como si el mundo se cerrara a su alrededor y un nudo se formĂł en su garganta. Al bajar del Ășltimo escalĂłn, tropezĂł y se cayĂł con fuerza, torciĂ©ndose bruscamente el tobillo. El dolor abrasador la devolviĂł a la realidad y las lĂĄgrimas brotaron de sus ojos. "ÂĄOh, no, señora Miller, tenga mĂĄs cuidado cuando camina!". Leah corriĂł a ayudarla a levantarse. Joelle agarrĂł el brazo de Leah con la visiĂłn borrosa a causa de las lĂĄgrimas. IntentĂł hablar, pero las palabras le salĂan entrecortadas porque estaba sollozando. "Mi hermano... ÂĄTengo que ir al hospital para verlo!". Leah sintiĂł su urgencia y respondiĂł sin dudar: "De acuerdo, no se preocupe. ÂĄLe pedirĂ© al conductor que la lleve de inmediato!". Leah era una criada experimentada y confiable que llevaba años al servicio de la familia Miller. Cinco minutos despuĂ©s, el auto ya estaba aparcado delante de la villa. Joelle estaba a punto de subir cuando se volviĂł hacia Leah. "Por favor, no se lo cuentes a Irene. No quiero preocuparla". El corazĂłn de la criada se ablandĂł. Incluso con el rostro pĂĄlido y surcado de lĂĄgrimas, Joelle se preocupaba por la salud de Irene. ÂĄQuĂ© muchacha tan rara y extraordinaria! "No se preocupe, señora Miller. Yo sĂ© quĂ© hacer. Vaya a ver a su hermano". Cuando Joelle llegĂł al hospital, Shawn acababa de salir del quirĂłfano. Al ver a su jefe conectado a tubos y cables, el asistente casi se desplomĂł. Joelle se acercĂł y lo encontrĂł arrodillado contra la pared, con los ojos hundidos e inyectados en s**gre. Tuvo que contener el impulso de regañarlo por no haber protegido mejor a su hermano. MĂĄs tarde habrĂa tiempo para eso. Cuando la condiciĂłn de Shawn fue mĂĄs estable, Joelle llevĂł al asistente a un lado. "CuĂ©ntamelo todo. ÂżCĂłmo ocurriĂł esto?". El asistente vacilĂł, con el rostro desencajado. "Señora Miller, el señor Watson nos ordenĂł especĂficamente que no la involucremos en los asuntos comerciales". "Pero esto es una cuestiĂłn de vida o muerte. ÂżPiensas que todavĂa es una opciĂłn no decirme nada?". Ya sin paciencia, Joelle se dio la vuelta para alejarse. "Señora Miller, eso no sirve de nada", respondiĂł el asistente desesperadamente. "Usted sabe que desde la muerte de su padre, el Grupo Watson ha dependido por completo de su hermano. Ha estado luchando para defender la dignidad de la familia, porque quiere que su vida con los Miller sea mĂĄs llevadera". Durante esos años, Shawn habĂa luchado valientemente para mantener a la familia a flote. No obstante, sin el apoyo financiero de Adrian, sus esfuerzos se habrĂan desvanecido hacĂa mucho tiempo. Su deseo mĂĄs profundo era que su hermana viviera cĂłmodamente, pero a pesar de sus incansables esfuerzos, nunca pudo hacerle ganar el respeto que merecĂa por parte de su esposo. No importaba lo mucho que se sacrificara, ella seguirĂa siendo infravalorada en la familia Miller. Joelle estaba hirviendo de rabia, pero sabĂa que no podĂa cambiar su realidad. Entonces, inspirĂł profundamente y preguntĂł: "ÂżNo mencionaron mi relaciĂłn con Adrian?" Esperaba que alinearse con los Miller pudiera ayudar a Shawn a mantenerse firme en sus actividades sociales. "El señor Watson se niega a tocar ese tema, pues teme que eso le haga las cosas mĂĄs difĂciles a usted". Joelle soltĂł una risa amarga. JamĂĄs habĂa estado en igualdad de condiciones con Adrian. No le extrañaba que la despreciara, ya que apenas podĂa soportarse a sĂ misma. Solo hacĂa una hora que le habĂa pedido el divorcio. Y ahora se aferraba al nombre de su esposo, desesperada por facilitarle la vida a su hermano. "Dile a Shawn que soy la esposa de Adrian Miller, Irene me eligiĂł personalmente. ÂĄMientras sea la señora Miller, mantendrĂ© la cabeza en alto dentro de la familia!". De repente, escucharon unos pasos detrĂĄs de ella. Joelle se dio la vuelta y vio a Adrian, que tenĂa una sonrisa frĂa en su rostro. A su lado, se encontraba una muchacha de aspecto frĂĄgil, con grandes ojos inocentes, aferrada a Ă©l. Adrian la miraba desdeñosamente, como si incluso le costara reconocer su presencia. Ya se habĂa dado cuenta de que ella realmente no querĂa el divorcio. La mujer que habĂa parecido tan decidida a irse, ahora estaba haciendo alarde de su tĂtulo como la señora Miller. Su amenaza de divorcio no habĂa sido mĂĄs que una estrategia, como una pelea de amantes que terminaba en amenazas vacĂas. Era tan astuta que lo habĂa d**gado para obligarlo a casarse. Con tĂĄcticas tan engañosas, ÂżcĂłmo podrĂa irse tan fĂĄcilmente? Su matrimonio eran un salvavidas para las dificultades de su familia. Adrian le daba cien millones cada año al Grupo Watson. Joelle serĂa una tonta si se arriesgaba a perderlo divorciĂĄndose de Ă©l. CapĂtulo 4 Por fin se dio cuenta HacĂa mucho que Joelle se habĂa vuelto insensible ante la indiferencia de Adrian. ObservĂł sin decir nada los brazos entrelazados de la pareja y recordĂł los dulces momentos capturados en los videos de Rebecca, que provocaban la envidia de mucha gente. ÂĄQuĂ© pareja tan perfecta! Ese pensamiento la golpeĂł. "ÂĄJoelle, por favor, no nos malinterpretes!", dijo Rebecca con urgencia mientras retiraba su mano del brazo de Adrian. "No me siento bien y no puedo caminar, asĂ que Adie simplemente tuvo la amabilidad de sostenerme". Joelle esbozĂł una leve sonrisa. "ÂżQuĂ© te trae al hospital?", preguntĂł mirando a Adrian, como si no hubiera escuchado la explicaciĂłn de Rebecca. "Es por Erick", dijo Rebecca, con las manos entrelazadas como una niña arrepentida. "TambiĂ©n vine a pedirte perdĂłn, Joelle. Lamento que Erick haya sido tan descuidado para provocar que tu hermano terminara en el hospital". "ÂżDescuidado?", replicĂł ella. "Tu hermano casi m*ta al mĂo, Âży crees que una disculpa bastarĂĄ para arreglarlo?". Rebecca se estremeciĂł y agarrĂł la manga de Adrian en busca de apoyo. "Ya es suficiente, Joelle", respondiĂł Ă©l con una voz tan gĂ©lida como el invierno. "No fue a propĂłsito". Luego, se volviĂł hacia Rebecca y agregĂł suavemente: "Vamos, Âżno viniste para ver a Erick?". Fue entonces cuando Joelle lo entendiĂł todo. HabĂa esperado ingenuamente que Adrian viniera para ver a Shawn. Pero no, habĂa venido con Rebecca para ver a Erick. Incluso si visitara a Shawn, serĂa por obligaciĂłn, nada mĂĄs. Pero sabĂa que no debĂa esperar que Ă©l la defendiera. "ÂĄRebecca, no olvidarĂ© lo que hizo Erick!", espetĂł. Rebecca doblĂł las piernas y se desplomĂł sobre el pecho de Adrian, quien la atrapĂł justo a tiempo y la abrazĂł con fuerza. "Joelle, Erick no tenĂa malas intenciones. ÂĄTambiĂ©n estĂĄ en el hospital!". "ÂżYa estĂĄ muerto? ÂĄSi no, tendrĂĄ que pagar por lo que hizo!". Joelle no solĂa arremeter, pero esta vez era diferente. Shawn era la Ășnica familia que le quedaba. Su padre, incapacitado por un derrame cerebral, se encontraba en estado vegetativo con poca o ninguna esperanza de recuperaciĂłn, y su madre habĂa fallecido en un accidente de trĂĄfico. Desde los dieciocho años, habĂan sido solo ella y Shawn, enfrentĂĄndose juntos a las dificultades del mundo. En sus momentos mĂĄs oscuros, Shawn llevĂł sola la carga para dejar que Joelle persiguiera su pasiĂłn por el violĂn. Ahora la idea de perderlo tambiĂ©n a Ă©l era insoportable. Su Ășnico deseo era que Erick muriera. "Joelle, ÂżcĂłmo puedes decir eso?", sollozĂł Rebecca con incredulidad. Ya sin paciencia, Adrian fijĂł su frĂa mirada en Joelle. "ÂżQuĂ© deseas?". "Shawn recibiĂł dos avisos de condiciĂłn crĂtica. ÂżQuĂ© hay de Erick?". Rebecca jadeĂł, su frĂĄgil cuerpo estaba temblando como una hoja en el viento. "ÂĄJoelle, por favor! Solo me queda un hermano. ÂĄPor favor, ten compasiĂłn!". Se desmayĂł antes de que la otra mujer pudiera responder. Adrian la levantĂł en sus brazos y le dio una Ășltima mirada de reproche a Joelle. Luego, se alejĂł y la dejĂł clavada en el mismo lugar, incapaz de moverse o incluso de pensar, lo que pareciĂł una eternidad. Antes de su matrimonio, habĂa sido una chica adinerada, pero luego se convirtiĂł en la sirvienta de Adrian. Ahora se daba cuenta de lo ingenua que habĂa sido. Ella solĂa ser una persona muy orgullosa, pero ahora soporta todo tipo de agravios sĂłlo para complacer a su marido. ÂĄQuĂ© patĂ©tico! Han pasado tres años, es hora de divorciarnos y comenzar una nueva vida... ...... ÂżQuĂ© sucederĂĄ en adelante? Los capĂtulos disponibles son limitados aquĂ, haga click el botĂłn abajo para instalar APP y disfrutar leyendo mĂĄs contenidos maravillosos. (Al abrir el APP, directo accederĂĄ a este libro) &3& | 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=120213892820350186 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464922911_1071964831090894_2104235273376415175_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NqWjV2499fcQ7kNvgFNY50z&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5jz7ZpxlbeEAcuB0df0uRZ&oh=00_AYDugIXVOHG88UngqmN9KUTC-lhyq-OoN5BPYBqCk8w3Yw&oe=6745B2BB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapter | For her, marrying her best friend and carrying his child was a dream come true. However, just at this joyful moment, the man's beloved returned... ===== "It's a good thing you're cautious. You could've lost your baby, Miss Monroe," the GYN told me seriously as she could see the shock in my eyes. Had I heard it right? I was pregnant? I was pregnant with a baby for Pierce--my best friend and my first crush! On the way out of the hospital, I couldn't wait to tell Pierce about our baby. I wondered what his reaction would be. Would he scream in happiness? God! I couldn't contain my happiness. I cupped my flushed face as I fantasized, but the moment I felt the cold of the simple ring on my finger, my wildly beating heart calmed down. I almost forgot that Pierce wasn't the type to be keen on having children, especially since our marriage was arranged by his family. Pierce was a complete gentleman, both as a friend and a husband. Every time we did intimate thing, he was considerate yet cautious, saying there was no need to add extra shackles when we weren't ready. This baby, in a way, was out of the plan. "Ma'am, is everything okay? Do you need to call the boss?" my private driver, Luke, asked worriedly as he noticed my frown. Luke was reliable, like family, but if I chose to share, I still wanted Pierce to be the first to know this news. He was my baby's father. "No," I shook my head, giving Luke a reassuring smile. "He's on a flight. I'll talk to him later myself." I wanted to sense his answer directly from his raw expressions. I was always good at that. I closed my eyes, recalling the first day we met. His bright smile in the sunlight was so dazzling; he was a Prince. Long before we became best friends, I fell in love with him at first sight. But it was only unrequited love; I knew that well. I slid down the car window to get some fresh air but accidentally caught a glimpse of our old high school. That bitter feeling filled my chest once again. Pierce was my first love, but I wasn't his. In high school, I was just a boring nerd in others' eyes while Pierce Anderson was the shining quarterback. Everyone was surprised that we could be friends. Though envy arose, I enjoyed being around him. I slowly realized that I didn't just want to be his friend. However, right when I was about to confess my feelings to him, another girl came into his life. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of those sad memories. I gripped the cold wedding ring on my finger, telling myself the past was the past. Pierce said they were over, and I was his wife now. I was his wife who was carrying his baby. I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and opened the door to our house. My heart calmed as I breathed in the scent of home. Our home. Pierce and I decorated it together with our own hands. We enjoyed it. Yes, I must have been overthinking. That woman had been out of our lives for a long time, and my marriage with Pierce had been as beautiful as a fairy tale for the past three years. I glanced at the clock on the wall. At this point, Pierce should have gotten off the plane. He had been traveling for over a month for the sake of our family's business. Pierce was the President of ADE, the leading fashion magazine company in Asia, and I was actually the Vice President. We were not only life partners but also good partners at work. I really missed him. I dialed his number immediately. I wanted to hear his voice now, to know when he would arrive home. I would prepare a good meal for him, and he would reward me with a sweet k*ss. Then we might do intimate thing... Oops, I almost forgot I was pregnant now. I needed to tell him this first before we could do anything else. I was happily envisioning our lovely reunion when my heart dropped as a woman's voice came over the line. [Hello?] I snapped the phone as just one word came out. My phone fell to the floor, and my body started shaking uncontrollably. NO! It couldn't be her! It couldn't be Lexi! She was already out of our lives! I must have misheard. I rushed to the fridge, attempting to calm myself with some al**hol. But the moment I was reminded of the doctor's words and my baby. I needed to be cautious for my baby's sake. I turned to grab a box of milk and walked toward the sofa. I didn't know what made me recognize that as Lexi's voice at that moment. I meant Lexi and I were never close. Lexi Gilbert was a typical blonde beauty that men would go crazy for. She was the popular cheerleader in high school while Pierce was the star quarterback. A better match than he and a nerd like me, right? It wasn't surprising that he had fallen for her. My pride couldn't stand watching the man I loved go crazy for another woman. So I had once tried to stay away from them silently, but Pierce refused to quit my life. Every time I drowned myself in a sea of books and studies to forget them, Pierce would appear at my doorstep asking me out. I couldn't say no to his charming smile; I couldn't refuse when he claimed it was his duty as my best friend to take me out to enjoy the real world. To avoid ruining our friendship, I could only hide my broken heart, silently playing the role of his best friend while watching his happy face as he pursued another girl. I finally mustered the courage to study abroad when I learned that Pierce was planning to propose to Lexi. However, I never expected Grams would call to beg me to return. I hurried back only to see a lifeless Pierce. His heart was shattered, thanks to Lexi. My beloved sunshine boy was nowhere to be seen, and my heart b*ed for him. I started to hate Lexi from that moment. I gave up my cherished man for her, and how dared she harm him so badly! Pierce didn't tell anyone what happened except that he was done with Lexi. Grams arranged our marriage. I didn't understand why he agreed until the day I heard him say that marrying anyone but Lexi would be the same for him. It hurt like hell, but I still walked into this marriage without a second thought. My cherished boy was broken, and I wanted to fix him, not caring if I ruined myself in the process. I fell asleep at home, feeling insecure and worried. I woke up in the middle of the night when I felt someone caressing my cheek. Slowly, I opened my eyes and realized I had fallen asleep in the living room. Someone lifted me from the couch. I immediately recognized his scent and touch as I looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Pierce..." "Hmm," he hummed as he walked toward the stairs. "Why did you sleep on the couch?" I stared at his face as he gently placed me down on the bed. He caressed my hair and k*ssed my forehead. He was always so gentle, and that was why I loved him so much. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you," I said as I caressed his cheek. "Just met a friend. You said you were waiting for me; is it something urgent?" Looking at his gentle face, I suddenly didn't want to ruin the moment, so I closed my parted lips and swallowed the truth back down. Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, I would have the courage to face all the puzzles. I shook my head and pouted, signaling that I was sleepy. He chuckled and carefully carried me to the bed. Just as he was about to leave me after giving me a goodnight k*ss, I panicked for some reason. I quickly grabbed him... I missed him. I wanted him. "Wait, Kels," he said, stopping me by pinning my hands to the bed. "I thought you said you were sleepy and needed to rest." "But I think I miss you more now." I looked at him with innocence and caught the d**ire flashing in his eyes, but I didn't know why it faded so quickly. He used to be happy when I took the initiative. As if noticing my confusion, he chuckled and playfully pinched my nose. "I'll just take a shower." I nodded and watched him as he walked toward the bathroom. But drowsiness struck again, so I closed my eyes to take a nap. However, it was already morning when I opened my eyes again, and Pierce was beside me, putting a tray of food on the bedside table. "Hey!" I greeted, smiling when I realized what he'd done. He had prepared breakfast for me. In bed. The sweetest. He smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. "Good morning." I grinned as I sat up. He carried the tray and put it beside me. I shot an eyebrow up, tilting my head as I stared at his handsome face. His deep brown eyes and thick, black eyebrows complemented his striking features. "What is this? Is this a bribe? You stood me up last night, bad boy." He didn't laugh. Instead, he heaved a sigh, gently tucking my hair behind my ear before taking my hand and staring into my eyes. "I have something to tell you." My heart raced. I thought about our baby. He had something to say, and I did too. "W-What is it?" I asked, feeling my voice tremble. He took a deep breath. "You know you're important to me, right?" I slowly nodded, my lips parted. I couldn't speak; I was scared of what he was about to say. I had a bad feeling about this. "You were my best friend before we got married. You're one of the few people I treasure..." I hid my clenched fists under the sheets. I didn't understand why he was telling me this, but I felt tears pooling in the corner of my eyes already. "Kelly..." He paused, squeezing his eyes shut before looking into mine again. "I-I think it's time for us to divorce." "P-Pierce..." My heart clenched. He smiled sadly. "I know you don't have feelings for me either. You only married me because of my grandparents. You just did this because you love them. Now it's time for our real happiness, Kelly." I shook my head. "W-What are you talking about, Pierce?" "Lexi is back, Kelly. My first love is back." Chapter 2 Kelly's POV--It Never Rains but It Pours I got off the bed and tried to leave, but Pierce grabbed my hand. I quickly wiped the tears rolling down my cheeks before he could see them. He stood in front of me, searching my face as I struggled to look down and avoid his gaze. My heart felt like it was breaking into pieces. I thought... I thought I could make him fall in love with me during those three years together. I believed his feelings would deepen, that he would see me as a woman rather than just a best friend. I was foolish to hope and dream so high. I had failed. No matter how hard I tried, his heart belonged only to his first love, Lexi. "Kelly..." I sucked in a breath and swallowed the pain as I looked at him. I forced a smile. "I need to wash up before eating." He stared into my eyes, trying to figure out what I was thinking. I knew he understood me too well, so I made a concerted effort to hide my pain and smiled back at him. He sighed and let go of my hand. "Okay. I'll wait for you here. Let's eat and go to work together." Together? How cruel could he be? He still wanted us to get along as if he hadn't just asked for a divorce? He wanted us to stay the same right after telling me that his first love was back and he wanted to divorce me? Oh, Pierce, what's going on in your head? If I used to be able to force myself to remain in the role of his best friend, wishing him happiness, I no longer had that courage after the three years we'd shared. There was no way I could endure that kind of torture again, especially now that I was carrying his baby. The baby... I had thought it was good news for us, but now... it felt more like a burden to him, I guess. A burden that would prevent him from pursuing his true love and freedom. I knew how an unwanted child could grow up. My parents divorced even before my mother died, and my father's new family hated me. It hurt like hell. I didn't want my baby to experience that same pain. I needed to keep my child away from it. I forced another smile. "We can't. I need to visit the studio for the photoshoot of our new models..." "I'll go with you--" "No." I pushed his hand away. His eyes followed my hand before he looked up at me again. "You have some documents to sign. Our schedules are already organized, remember?" "But..." "I have a personal driver, Pierce. I'll be fine going alone." He sighed and slowly nodded. I turned my back on him and entered the bathroom. I immediately opened the shower and stood under the cold water. Tears cascaded down my cheeks as I covered my mouth to suppress my sobs. My shoulders trembled violently, and when I thought about my baby, I swallowed hard, trying to calm myself down. I wiped my face and caressed my belly. I needed to be strong. I had to stay calm. I shouldn't put my baby's life at risk just because I got my heart broken. I had to handle this wisely. I took a deep breath and finished my shower. When I got out of the bathroom, I was shocked to see Pierce still there. He was struggling to fix his tie in front of the full-length mirror. I also noticed my pair of heels and dress on the bed. "Hey! I picked your dress for today." Since our marriage wasn't public, Pierce had said he would try to do little things for me as a husband. He did it well, and I used to enjoy these sweet moments, but now, they felt like d**gers to my heart. I grabbed the dress and went into the walk-in closet. I felt him following me. I put the white dress back and picked a red one. When I turned to face him, his forehead was creased. "I prefer red today. I'd feel beautiful in this dress." His eyes landed on the dress I was holding, and his face immediately relaxed. He nodded and walked toward me. "I see. Help me fix this first." I placed my dress on his arm and started adjusting his tie. I could feel his eyes staring intently and it was making my heart beat so fast. I took a deep breath and chewed my bottom lip as I struggled to fix the tie. My vision started to blur again. D**n! "Kelly..." I jumped in shock. "Hmm?" "Are you okay?" I looked at him and smiled. "Yeah." "I have something else to say." I finished fixing his tie, then immediately grabbed the dress from him. I glanced at him before walking past him and said, "Let's just talk some other time. I'm going to be late." I heard him sigh as he followed me again. He's silent the whole time as if he's thinking about something. "You should eat before you leave." I turned to him and nodded. "I will. You should go now." "Kelly, we're on the same page, right?" I stared at him. No, Pierce. We're never on the same page. All of this was just my stupid fantasy. I thought you had feelings for me, and I was so wrong. "If it's about the divorce, I understand everything, Pierce. I know what I have to do. Just give me some time because I'm really busy with the company. I won't run away." "Kelly, I'm not just doing this for myself. I'm doing this for you too. You've been caged with me ever since we got married. I know you're not happy because deep down, you want to find the man you deserve. Someone who will truly love you. Not me. Not someone who's half-hearted." "I understand what you're trying to say, Pierce," I said, trying to turn away, but he held me by the waist, keeping me in place. He did everything he could to capture my gaze, and he succeeded. He looked at me worriedly. "You are my best friend. I don't want to lose you, Kels. You're one of the few people I..." "I know," I said out of frustration. He looked shocked, so I took a breath to calm myself. "I-I know. You don't have to worry. I'm just stressed about work. It's not about our divorce." His lips parted, and he slowly nodded, as if he could finally breathe properly. He walked toward me, and I froze when he gently k*ssed my forehead... "Thank you, Kelly," he whispered. My heart clenched. It had been three years, but I was still such a coward. Why couldn't I just tell him that I loved him? He's my husband, and I'm carrying his baby! If I told him, he might change his mind! I swallowed hard, ready to speak, but his phone rang. I didn't miss the caller ID. Again, it was Lexi. "I gotta go." He scratched his head in apology, and I didn't miss the upturned corners of his mouth. "I called Luke, and he's waiting outside. Eat before you go, okay?" With that, he left our room. The tears I had managed to hold back burst forth again. Why did I think I could have a chance? He had made his choice the moment he asked for a divorce, hadn't he? Whenever it came to Lexi, I was always the one he would abandon. Chapter 3 Kelly's POV--Stiff Upper Lip I entered the studio wearing two-inch red heels and a red dress. Everyone turned to look as I walked down the hallway, greeting me with smiles, but my face remained stoic, not showing any emotions at all. The conversation with Pierce this morning lingered in my mind, but I couldn't let it affect my work. I couldn't fail my work after I had failed my marriage. I took a deep breath to steady myself. However, when I entered the photoshoot room, I could notice everyone was in chaos. "We can't! She's not answering her calls. What should we do? The Vice President is coming today. She'll be furious." "We can just tell her the truth. She's nice." "Not in this situation, Lily! She'll scold us--" "What's happening here?" I asked, stepping further into the room. The staff turned to me with worried expressions, and I knew then that something was wrong. "G-Good morning, Miss Monroe." Miss Monroe. Of course, no one knew that Pierce and I were married except for our families. I felt a pinch in my heart because of that truth. It hurt. I stared at her blankly, "What? "W-We have a problem, Miss Monroe. Miss Chen, our model, has been refusing our calls. She said she heard that we're changing the model, so...she doesn't want to come here. She's even threatening to file a case against us." She bowed her head, and I gritted my teeth, scanning the room. "Where's the marketing manager?" "S-She's still trying to convince Miss Chen, Miss Monroe." I massaged my forehead, squeezing my eyes closed. I grabbed my hair and screamed in so much anger, causing everyone around me to jump in shock. I g**aned, sucking in a breath before looking around. "Miss Monroe..." "What is this, Miss Hayley? You're the marketing manager. What's happening?" "Miss Monroe, I don't know how it happened, but Miss Chen heard that you're changing our model. She's about to file a case against us--" Changing the model? How had I not known about this? Miss Chen had always been a trusted partner, and if not necessary, changing models for a commercial shoot on short notice would only create chaos for the company. I would never allow such a costly mistake. "I never asked for that. You must be mistaken." I cut her off to save the time, "Fix this mess, or I'll have to fire you!" "Miss Monroe... It's Mr. President who ordered the change." Hayley spoke hesitantly. "He instructed us as soon as he returned from his business trip yesterday." The truth hit me hard. Pierce's order? Why hadn't he told me? He used to discuss every major decision with me first. "It shouldn't be..." Confusion clouded my mind. Pierce was not a clueless businessman; he maintained a clear distinction between work and personal matters, which was why he always succeeded. And that was also why he chose to keep our marriage a secret. "Yes, Kelly. I gave the order." The voice pulled me back. "M-Mr. President..." Hayley bowed in respect as the man suddenly appeared behind me. "I think you owe me an explanation, Pierce. About changing the model!" I snapped as I turned to face him. He knew how much effort I had put into securing this project. I hadn't slept well for days, and Miss Chen was the perfect fit for us. He had agreed too. But now... he just changed the model as he liked without informing me in advance. It felt like a hard s**p in the face. "Go ahead with the work. I'll explain it to her." He pacified the staff first, ignoring the anger simmering in my eyes. "Answer me, Pierce! Why did you change the model so suddenly?" I couldn't contain my fury. He touched my shoulder and whispered, "This isn't the place to talk. Let me explain in the car." I glanced around, noticing others sneaking glances at us. I shook off his hand and walked toward the parking lot, my heart growing heavier with each step. I had a sinking feeling I wouldn't like his explanation. "Now, say it," I blurted once we were seated in his car. He stared into my eyes as if weighing my emotions. I looked away again.; I couldn't bear his gaze. I couldn't withstand his eyes that never looked at me the way I wanted him to. He had no feelings for me and it hurt so much. "I-I..." he paused, sighing. "I replaced Miss Chen because Lexi wants to be our model. She's also a good fit, so I agreed--" "What?" I asked in disbelief. He pressed his lips together and looked away, ruffling his hair in frustration before shaking his head and holding my hand. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It was just so sudden. She asked for a favor, and I couldn't say no." I pulled my hand away, looking at him with a mix of pain and anger. "You can't say no to her, so you'd rather harm the company--our company. You've betrayed me, Pierce." "Kels, come on. You know how much I love her. She's my first love." Painfully, I closed my eyes. Oh yes, she was your first love. She's always the one you want, no matter the cost. As long as she frowns a bit, you turn a blind eye to the pain and effort of others. You're so heartless, Pierce. "Well, you've made your decision. I don't have a say in this since you're the President. Just go. I'll be in the office." I said coldly, opening the car door to leave. "Kelly..." I looked him in the eyes. "Go home early. Let's talk about our divorce at home tonight." Chapter 4 Kelly's POV--Left High and Dry I was playing with the wedding ring on my finger. I told him to go home early, but he didn't come home at all. He wasn't even answering my calls. Well, now Lexi was back; this house was probably not home in his eyes anymore. My eyes turned to my pregnancy report on the table. What a mockery. I was still naive to hold a glimmer of hope that things would be different if I told him about the baby. But forget this baby thing was out of his plan. I wiped away the tears collecting at the corners of my eyes and picked up the report. It was 5 a.m. already when I looked at the clock on the wall. I tried to dial his number again, but it was still busy. What was he busy with? Was he busy staying with Lexi? He must have missed her a lot, didn't he? I didn't remember how I fell asleep. When the alarm clock went off, he didn't come home yet. I sneered at myself as I caught my reflection in the dresser mirror. The dark circles under my eyes were so clear, and my hair was a total mess, looking like a ghost. Suddenly, a wave of nausea flooded my stomach, and I realized I hadn't eaten anything last night. Feeling sick again, I ran to the sink and puked. I spat yellowish liquid, and while I was washing my mouth, I felt a warm hand caressing my back. I immediately lifted my face and met a pair of brown eyes looking at me through the mirror. Standing behind me with a worried expression was my husband, Pierce. I had always been thankful to have him as my best friend and husband, but now... I'm losing him. Hopelessly losing him. "Are you okay? Are you not feeling well? You should've told me." I stared at him through the mirror. "You didn't answer my calls." Guilt flickered in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I had some things to do. I stayed in the office all night." I wiped my face and walked past him. He followed me as I sat in front of the vanity and started combing my hair. "Kels..." "I woke up late. I failed to prepare breakfast." I tried to avoid his eyes. I felt like I would lose my temper and snap at him. There was no moment when I felt his selfishness so clearly as now. He called me his best friend, yet he had never seriously confronted my needs. My feelings. "Kels... you know I'm not asking about this. I'm just worried about your condition..." "Kels, are we still okay?" I stopped combing my hair and slowly met his eyes. Through the mirror, again. Really? He's asking me that? After he offered me a divorce without even asking if I was okay with it? He decided on his own, just because his first love is back. I couldn't believe him. I faked a smile. "I just don't feel well today, Pierce." He immediately squatted beside me, which was not surprising because I knew he truly cared. What surprised me was why he was still doing this after he buried a dagger in my heart. "Are you okay?" He gently touched my forehead and neck. "Are you sick? Tell me how you feel, Kels." "My feelings don't matter," I couldn't help but blurt out. He looked shocked by what I said. When I attempted to avoid him, he grabbed my wrist and made me face him. His face was mirroring his anger now. He was completely lost his patience. "What's wrong with you, Kels? You've been acting like this since yesterday. Is this about Lexi? Or was it because I didn't come home last night?" I looked him in the eyes, annoyed. "You're the one who asked for a divorce! I told you to come back earlier, but you just let me wait the whole night. How do you want me to greet you this morning, Pierce?" He clenched his jaws and shook his head. "Kels, I..." "Enough. We can talk about the divorce after work today." "Kels!" He called and grabbed my shoulders. Confusion and pain were visible in his eyes. "Are you... in love with me?" I was taken aback. In love? Yes! Ever since we were in high school. Ever since he became my best friend. Who wouldn't fall for someone who had been protecting you ever since? But of course, I couldn't tell him. It would only complicate things more. I didn't even want him to pity me. I shook my head and pushed his arms away. "Are you on d**gs? I'm not in love with you." I turned my back on him and entered the bathroom again. I locked it before going to the bathtub. I should focus on myself. I can't let my emotions affect me, but... why are my tears falling again? "You are so pathetic, Kelly! You can't even tell him how you truly feel," I whispered to myself as I wiped my tears angrily. It took me almost an hour to bathe. When I was done, I realized Pierce had already left. I shook my head in disbelief. He's been constantly abandoning me. I can't believe we've reached this point. I thought we were okay. I was so stupid. *** "Good morning, Miss Monroe..." "Good morning, Vice President..." I did not greet anyone back, just like how I used to greet them. I still felt pissed, and my mood seemed off. Irritation could easily take over me, and I couldn't control it. Probably because of Pierce's divorce proposal or because of my pregnancy. I was about to enter my office when I heard two girls talking. "Did you see her? I bet she's Mr. Anderson's girlfriend. They seemed close." My forehead creased. Pierce's girlfriend? "Ah! It's a waste that I didn't see her face, but I feel like it's Miss Lexi." "Lexi? Lexi Gilbert? The model?" "Yes! I bet my whole month's salary on this. They look good together." "Come on! Miss Monroe and Mr. Anderson look better together." "Are you serious? They're best friends. You know, some people are better off just friends. It's Mr. Anderson and Miss Monroe." I squeezed my eyes closed and pushed the door of my office. I slowly closed it and rested my back against it. This is harder than I expected. I took a deep breath and sat in my swivel chair. I opened the computer at the same time a notification popped up on the screen of my phone. My hands started shaking as soon as I saw the notification. It was Pierce's social media update. He uploaded a photo of him and Lexi together, eating in a fancy restaurant. I balled my fists and gritted my teeth. See, Kelly? That's what happens when you step into such a loveless marriage without a second thought. You would only break yourself if you continued on the wrong path. Just get a divorce. Spare him and yourself. Your baby needs a strong mommy... ...... ==== Marrying her best friend was a dream come true for Kelly, but everything truly has a limitation. Pierce is Kelly's first love, but as his best friend, she knew well there was always another woman deep in his heart, Lexi Gilbert. Kelly finally realized their happy marriage of the last three years was just a beautiful dream when Pierce asked for a divorce just because Lexi returned. She could only be his best friend even if she was carrying his baby. Since their friendship had become a cage, Kelly chose to set him free, as well as the miserable herself. But why then, it was Pierce who became the one who refused to move on? To make matters worse, her devil stepbrother also domineeringly stepped in at the same time, asking her to be his. What happens next? How could Kelly save her heart in this battle of love and hate? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61818322-fb_contact-e | Romantic Novel City | 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/61818322-fb_contact-encp25_2-1103-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&rawadid=120213581757180597 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465970213_1564767484429104_4187262611731155238_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cXwbAwJcHVEQ7kNvgFLdzhD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=At2EQIex-FBvciRc4csE8By&oh=00_AYBIk88CPZ_g32Zzoc9ey0HbtmJeizbxtbWOr83WC9lpjw&oe=6745A161 | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concernâshe would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about thisâI have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marryâshe could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheapâshe only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. ⊠The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "HiâŠ" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a carâI'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructureâthe medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as wellâŠ" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anythingâperhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partnerâour grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital nowâyou can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. ⊠Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other⊠Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now⊠It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "FreyaâŠ" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into workâthe jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat woundâit was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on itâit didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. ⊠After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NnSR5wYHPYMQ7kNvgEbZQZs&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoVwcBqbDTXJy8a8quxnlH-&oh=00_AYB18-fOdgvYDLt5rlSU0WeqRXsIh9R_-gZymG1macSERQ&oe=6745C32B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-21 19:36 | active | 1905 | 0 | Read next chapterđ | As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-e | Hello reading | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c1-0824-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=798859118295947&rawadid=120216829062850091 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465818172_533755369504508_4338554020403262626_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zFLBcxDVIFUQ7kNvgFEWlyO&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A3M1miOSQr_woseT4J3EEIm&oh=00_AYBeYCbMesTHvb7iG2hTsZxTaDVVlq1LmRlgB2Wvju8GIQ&oe=6745C5E8 | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | After a tragic accident left Emily Yates without her memories, she fell in love with her savior, Justin Yates, unaware that he was hiding the truth and using her as a stand-in for his first love. For three long years, Emily poured everything into the relationship, hoping he would love her back. But on the day Justin proposed, he held his "one true love" in his arms and left Emily stranded on a foreign street, still expecting her to remain his secret mistress. * âDidnât I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?â Justinâs voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if his irritation had taken on a life of its own. Emily stood her ground, unafraid. She needed answers. âYou proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now youâre holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And youâre not even coming home? Staying out all night?â âStop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,â he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Emily wasnât leaving without answers. âYou think Iâm being unreasonable? Iâm your fiancĂ©e. You left me on the street in a foreign country to carry another woman away without a second thought. Did you ever consider how I felt? âIâll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, youâre coming home with me.â Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justinâs arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justinâs personal bodyguard, William Carter. Emily was stunned, unable to believe what she was seeing. It felt as though her heart was being torn in two. âWhat do you mean by this?â Emilyâs voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didnât respond. He stared at her with cold, detached eyes, as if she were a stranger and not the fiancĂ©e he had just proposed to. Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and emotionless. âDonât be childish.â Childish? Once, he had said he loved how she depended on him, how she claimed him for herself. And now he was calling her childish? âIf you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!â | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15056&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15056&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464524242_869324355322502_5461206031477697920_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_B6lCVrByTwQ7kNvgHqaYIo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYCoWkPI3yg6QeZKHR3Z4RMvS3QKQoW3-I9K69CvLk7euw&oe=67459FEA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | After a tragic accident left Emily Yates without her memories, she fell in love with her savior, Justin Yates, unaware that he was hiding the truth and using her as a stand-in for his first love. For three long years, Emily poured everything into the relationship, hoping he would love her back. But on the day Justin proposed, he held his "one true love" in his arms and left Emily stranded on a foreign street, still expecting her to remain his secret mistress. * âDidnât I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?â Justinâs voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if his irritation had taken on a life of its own. Emily stood her ground, unafraid. She needed answers. âYou proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now youâre holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And youâre not even coming home? Staying out all night?â âStop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,â he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Emily wasnât leaving without answers. âYou think Iâm being unreasonable? Iâm your fiancĂ©e. You left me on the street in a foreign country to carry another woman away without a second thought. Did you ever consider how I felt? âIâll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, youâre coming home with me.â Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justinâs arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justinâs personal bodyguard, William Carter. Emily was stunned, unable to believe what she was seeing. It felt as though her heart was being torn in two. âWhat do you mean by this?â Emilyâs voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didnât respond. He stared at her with cold, detached eyes, as if she were a stranger and not the fiancĂ©e he had just proposed to. Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and emotionless. âDonât be childish.â Childish? Once, he had said he loved how she depended on him, how she claimed him for herself. And now he was calling her childish? âIf you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!â | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15056&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15056&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464524242_869324355322502_5461206031477697920_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_B6lCVrByTwQ7kNvgHqaYIo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYCoWkPI3yg6QeZKHR3Z4RMvS3QKQoW3-I9K69CvLk7euw&oe=67459FEA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Transform Your Pet's Photo into Vibrant Art! | đ¶ Surprise your loved ones with a personalized portrait of their furry friend! Each canvas is a unique work of art, created with love and attention to detail. Order now at mypetcanvas.com | SHOP_NOW | https://mypetcanvas.com/products/basquiat-canvas | My Pet Canvas | https://www.facebook.com/mypet.canvas.official/ | 1,520 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop Now | 0 | mypetcanvas.com | DCO | Trusted by Over 12K Pet Parents | https://mypetcanvas.com/products/basquiat-canvas | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/453017146_422292733458631_8129222518644715058_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8gXjtZj1CRUQ7kNvgHs7_ha&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AISwJn56Ach8XmY6u58-iS2&oh=00_AYBJnRSeRjWJ-mUjRtvLAPscjeCg-DqHG4S1_TlKjp0bBw&oe=6745A424 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | My Pet Canvas | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she passed away because of postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophieâs voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. He cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." Chapter2 Juan also looked over. A red figure stood out in the crowd. Debra, clad in a burgundy dress, seemed to captivate hearts with every gesture. Cameras flashed at her like she was a reigning superstar walking the red carpet. 'Debra?' Juan took a moment to recognize her. In the past, Debra preferred light makeup and plain dresses. This was the first time Juan had seen her like this. Seeing Debra for the first time, Shelia was filled with jealousy. Compared to the alluring Debra, she seemed too plain. "Debra looks stunning." Shelia's tone carried a subtle envy. Debra spotted them and walked over. Shelia thought Debra, unaware of her relationship with Juan, would be surprised or awkward, but Debra was poised and smiling. "Mrs. Nichols is here. Who's the lady beside Mr. Nichols?" whispered a reporter. Debra approached, linking her arm with Juan's, and extended a hand towards Shelia. "You must be Shelia mentioned by Juan. Nice to meet you! I'm Debra. You can call me Mrs. Nichols." Shelia withdrew her hand from Juan's and shook hands with Debra. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nichols," Shelia said awkwardly. "Juan told me that he sponsored you. You're going to study abroad, right?" Debra said. Shelia glanced at Juan. "Shelia excels in her studies. She's planning to go abroad this year, but she's a bit timid, so I brought her here today to broaden her horizons," Juan said. He had brought Shelia here to see the world of the upper class. Juan hadn't completely fallen for Shelia yet. It was only after Shelia returned from abroad that Juan fell in love with her. Even so, Juan attended all kinds of events with Shelia, to the point where everyone in Seamar City knew that Juan liked a college girl. But none of this mattered to Debra anymore. She came to the auction not to compete with Shelia but for a more important purpose. "Well then, take good care of Miss Miles. I'm going in," Debra said, letting go of Juan's arm. Juan was stunned. He hadn't expected these words to come from Debra's mouth. By the time he realized it, Debra had already get into the venue. Juan frowned. 'When did the unruly Debra become so agreeable?' Debra sat in an inconspicuous corner. The auction venue was filled with influential figures. If she remembered correctly, an abandoned piece of land that nobody wanted was bought by an obscure merchant at this auction. Later, because of the upscale developments around it, the land became valuable. The successful investment elevated the merchant's status, making him a commercial magnate. Since she had decided to leave Juan, Debra wanted to build up her own assets. After sitting down, Juan searched for Debra's figure. Beside him, Shelia asked, "Mr. Nichols, do you really want me to bid on your behalf?" Juan's attention returned, and he said, "Yes, I trust your judgment." Shelia blushed. She had studied finance for so long at school, just for this day. On the second floor, Debra watched them chat happily. Shelia indeed had some talent, which was one of the reasons why Juan would be attracted to her. In her last life, Shelia had once identified a prime piece of land, which impressed Juan. But that piece of land was valuable, to begin with. The Nichols Group's properties were around it, and Shelia inflated the price with Juan's money. In the end, the value of the land and the surrounding properties all increased, so Juan couldn't lose. Even without Shelia, Juan would have secured that piece of land. As the auction started, Shelia began to bid. She successfully won the first three prime pieces of land. Juan sat beside Shelia like a guardian. "The price of Crescent Manor starts at one billion." "Two billion." Debra's bidding caused a collective gasp. Juan frowned. What's gotten into this woman? Shelia whispered, "This piece of land isn't worth much. Debra's going to lose money." Juan texted Debra. [What are you doing?] Debra read the message and ignored it. "Two billion once!" "Two billion twice!" ... "Is Debra crazy? Two billion for this piece of junk?" On the second floor, Randy was flabbergasted. "Three billion," Marion bid. Randy nearly flipped the table. "Marion! Are you insane too?" Across from them, Debra frowned. She wanted to know who was crazy enough to compete with her for this wasteland, only to see Marion. She vaguely remembered Marion was doing gray business. 'When did he start real estate development?' "Four billion!" Debra raised the stakes. Downstairs, Juan furrowed his brow and texted her again. [Debra, shut up!] Debra simply turned off her phone. "Five billion," Marion said. His provocation annoyed Debra. 'Alright, you want to play? Let's play.' "Ten billion!" she bid. "What! She's gone mad!" Randy exclaimed. Juan stood up, losing his composure. He couldn't quite grasp Debra's intentions. To him, this piece of land wasn't even worth one billion. Yet Debra was offering ten billion. Marion smiled at Debra and made a gesture of concession. "Ten billion!" The auctioneer exclaimed, "Any further bids? Ten billion, going once, going twice. Sold!" As the gavel fell, a weight lifted off Debra's heart. The land was finally hers, but she had unnecessarily spent an extra eight billion. It was all because of Marion. She glared at him. Randy nudged Marion, "Hey, Debra's glaring at you. If I were her, I'd probably be plotting your demise." Marion shrugged indifferently. Downstairs, Shelia tugged at Juan. "Mr. Nichols, Debra is going to make you bankrupt." "She set her own price. No one will help her pay the bills," Juan said. Chapter 3 Due to this episode, Juan's attention was solely on Debra. Shelia's performance was completely ignored. When the auction ended, Debra was about to leave when she bumped into Juan and Shelia. "Debra, if you don't understand real estate, don't mess around," Juan said bluntly. Shelia chimed in, "Yeah, Debra. Your actions have cost Mr. Nichols ten billion." Debra chuckled, "Miss Miles, you misunderstand. This piece of land is mine to get. What does it have to do with Juan?" Shelia blurted out, "But that's ten billion." "It's just pocket change for me, not to mention for her." From not far away, Randy's voice came. "Isn't that right, Ms. Frazier?" Debra caught sight of Marion and said, "It's just a plaything for purchase." Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Ten billion meant nothing to Juan and Debra. In front of these people, Shelia felt inferior. "Heard Mr. Nichols got married. Is the lady beside him Mrs. Nichols?" Marion chimed in. Shelia blushed, stammering, "N-no." "This is my wife, Debra," Juan said, pulling Debra close. Debra tried to shake off Juan's hand, but he held on tight. Since earlier, he had felt Marion's gaze on Debra. Men understood men best. He could see through Marion's thoughts. "So, Ms. Frazier is Mrs. Nichols. It's my bad. I saw Mr. Nichols chatting with this lady in the venue earlier, thinking she was Mrs. Nichols." Randy slapped his head. "Then this lady must be Mr. Nichols's secretary. No wonder she was holding up signs for Mr. Nichols earlier." Debra almost burst out laughing. Though she didn't care about Shelia and Juan anymore, hearing Randy's words still made her pleased. Shelia was totally embarrassed. "Joe, take Shelia home," Juan requested. "Yes, sir," Joe agreed. Randy grinned, "We'll get out of your hair. Bye!" After Randy and Marion left, Debra shook off Juan's hand. "Had enough?" Juan didn't expect Debra to pull away. Before, Debra couldn't wait to touch him. She seemed different tonight. "If you're trying to get my attention, you don't need to do this," Juan said. Debra was speechless. She wanted to argue, but she couldn't find the right words. Considering how much she cared about Juan in the past, she might have done so. But she wasn't that person anymore. "Whatever!" Debra shrugged. "Wait." Juan stopped her. "What now?" "What's your relationship with Marion?" "I don't even know him." Juan spoke coldly. "No matter what your relationship is with him, you are Mrs. Nichols in public. You better watch your identity and keep your distance from other men." Debra scoffed, "Before you demand anything from others, how about demanding it from yourself? Did you consider your status and my reputation when you brought Shelia here today?" "I had Joe inform you today." "Oh? Is it to tell me not to come?" Juan remained silent. He knew he was in the wrong. "Even Marion, an outsider, mistook Shelia for Mrs. Nichols. If you like her, let's get a divorce," Debra said. "Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?" Juan frowned. Although he didn't love Debra, it didn't mean he wanted a divorce. Their marriage was based on interests. It was not something one person could dissolve. From Juan's serious expression, Debra could tell that he wasn't thinking of divorce now, but it was only because of her family. In a few years, when she became worthless, he would discard her like trash. Thinking of the miserable end of her last life, she'd rather end it now than wait for that moment. "I said, let's divorce." The next day, news of Debra's extravagant purchase of wasteland swept through major platforms. Debra was the sole heiress to the Frazier family, and ten billion was just a figure for her. However, with her family's businesses operating, she had limited liquid assets. It was not easy for her to raise the money. Debra lay on the bed, rubbing her brows. 'Should I find Juan? No.' He left without a word yesterday when she proposed a divorce. She couldn't understand. She was even willing to relinquish the Frazier family's wealth to him, yet he still didn't want a divorce. But besides Juan, who else could she turn to? Suddenly, Debra sat up. She had an idea. "Marion!" People in high society were in one circle. Debra managed to contact Marion through her connections. Debra remembered that Marion's influence was overseas, but in recent years, he had stationed himself in Seamar City. Others might not know why, but she did. In the coming years, Marion would rapidly take over local enterprises, competing head-to-head with Juan. In the conference room, Marion played with his lighter. Debra got straight to the point. "I want to borrow eight billion from you." Randy spat out his tea. He'd seen straightforward, but never this blunt. "Ms. Frazier, that's a large amount of money." Debra blinked. "Last time you said ten billion was nothing." "I just rolled the logs for you, and you're giving me a hard time." Randy shook his head. Beautiful women were always a bit sick in their heads. Marion flicked his lighter. "Why should I lend you any money?" "I could've secured Crescent Manor with two billion, but because of your meddling, I have to pay an extra." "Not a convincing reason." Debra fell silent for a moment before saying, "Your industries are all overseas, but for the past two years, you've been frequenting Seamar City. I guess you want to launder your overseas money here. Am I right?" Randy paused his tea-drinking motion, subconsciously glancing at Marion. He didn't expect Debra to understand these things. Chapter 4 The room fell silent for a moment. Marion smirked and said, "Mrs. Nichols, you can't wrongly accuse good people." "Yeah, we're all legitimate businessmen," Randy chimed in. "In the realm of legitimate business, it's not up to me to judge. But I think Juan might be interested," Debra said. "I'm just a clueless rich girl, while Juan isn't. If I tell him what happened, I wonder if he'll take notice." "You're sneaky!" Randy couldn't contain his frustration. Debra looked at Marion seriously. "Lend me eight billion, and I'll pay you back with interest in three years." Randy's eyes widened. "Are you kidding? Do you know how much interest that'll be? If you can't pay it back, we'll lose eight billion. You're Juan's wife. Who can hold you accountable?" "I know the interest. I'll sign a contract with you. If I can't repay, I'll give you my family's properties and stocks, and I'll work for you for the rest of my life." Randy paused and continued, "And besides, my marriage with Juan might not last three years. Even if I'm still his wife then, he won't protect me." Marion looked up and stared at Debra for a while. Randy's ears perked up as he smelled gossip. But he quickly composed himself. "No, I disagree!" But Marion agreed, "Okay, I'll lend it to you." "What?" Randy jumped up from his chair. "Have you gone mad?" "I'll have the finance department transfer the money to you. We'll draft the contract later," Marion said. "Marion!" Randy stomped his foot. "Thank you, Mr. Houston." Debra stood up, saying, "I'll await your message. Happy cooperation." She smiled and left the office. Randy ground his teeth. "That's eight billion! Are you out of your mind? She's Juan's wife! Why would you lend her money?" Marion grinned. "She's pretty." "Why should you get the girl while I pay?" Randy exclaimed. Marion stood up, tossed a bank card to Randy, and said, "I pursue the woman I fancy. It's only right that I foot the bill." "What? Foot the bill? She's Juan's wife! What bill are you talking about?" Randy ranted. Ignoring his protest, Marion walked out of the office. "Both of you are insane!" Randy muttered. Debra had just stepped into the Nichols family's mansion when she saw Juan sitting in the living room. She frowned. In her last life, Juan rarely came home. 'When did he become so attached to home?' Assuming he was just lounging around, she turned to go upstairs. "Debra!" Juan called out. Debra halted. "What is it?" Juan felt uneasy about Debra's recent coldness. "The auction house is pressing for payment." "I know," Debra replied coolly. "If you don't have enough money, you can tell me," Juan said. "No need. I've sorted it out," Debra said dismissively. "Where did you get the money from?" Ten billion wasn't a small amount, and Juan knew every movable asset under the Frazier family's name. She couldn't produce such a sum on short notice. "It's my business. You don't need to concern yourself," Debra replied. "Don't forget that I'm your husband," Juan said. Debra chuckled bitterly. 'Husband?' Juan always considered it a disgrace. When did he remember he was her husband? "You're so anxious because you're afraid I'll lose money and drag down the Nichols family," Debra said. Juan fell silent. Seeing his reaction, Debra knew that she had guessed right. "I won't drag you down. I understand our marriage is a business alliance. We rise and fall together. You don't have to come home often," Debra concluded. Juan was speechless. He used to think that way, so after getting married, he was cold towards Debra and didn't even touch her. But after hearing those words from Debra, he suddenly realized his excessiveness. Juan was about to say something when suddenly a remittance message came on Debra's phone. She didn't expect Marion's actions to be so fast. In just an hour, the money arrived. With the matter resolved, Debra gave a smile. Juan pursed his lips, suddenly remembering how Debra used to follow him. She showed him the same smile, but he never cared. "There's a party tonight. You're coming with me." "Me?" Debra frowned. Juan asked, "Don't want to?" "Why don't you bring Shelia with you?" Debra was puzzled. In her last life, whenever there was a banquet, Juan would take Shelia. If her memory served her right, it was an international banquet that night. She insisted on going, but Juan brought Shelia in the end, indirectly paving the way for Shelia. For such an important occasion, why would Juan suddenly think of bringing her? "You're my wife, so naturally, you should come to such occasions with me." Debra didn't get it, thinking it was only because Shelia had something else to do. Then again, she should go to such occasions more often. To start her own business, she needed connections. "Alright then, I'll go get ready." Juan breathed a sigh of relief. At least, Debra was still willing to be the nominal Mrs. Nichols. Perhaps she wasn't completely disappointed with him yet. Shelia was in the dormitory, arranging the dress sent by Juan's secretary. Her roommates looked at Shelia with envy. "Shelia, your boyfriend is so sweet, giving you such a beautiful dress." Shelia's cheeks turned rosy. "Shelia, when will you introduce us to your boyfriend?" "Yeah, your boyfriend is so rich, and he takes you to various banquets all the time. We're curious." Shelia shook her head and said, "He's very busy. I'll introduce you to him when he's available." Shelia's phone rang. Seeing that it was a call from Juan's secretary, she answered the phone happily. "Joe, did Mr. Nichols send you to pick me up? I'll come down right away," she said. "Mr. Nichols said you don't need to come today," said Joe. Chapter 5 Shelia's smile froze. "Why?" "Mr. Nichols is taking his wife tonight, so it wouldn't be convenient for you to attend." Shelia forced a smile. "Oh, so he's taking his wife. That's great. I didn't want to go anyway." "That's good." Shelia held her phone and bit her lip. Her roommates exchanged glances. "Shelia, did your boyfriend stand you up?" "I heard this event is international. Didn't your boyfriend organize it to introduce you to some foreign entrepreneurs?" Facing their skeptical looks, Shelia managed a weak smile. "He has an important client to accompany. I shouldn't disturb him." Shelia glanced at the dress in her hands, her expression dimming. 'Juan never likes Debra. Why did he suddenly...' She tightened her grip on the dress. She had looked forward to tonight's event for so long. She couldn't just give up. As the night fell, Juan had a splendid black dress sent to Debra. He had been waiting downstairs for a while when he saw Debra descending the stairs. Though he had seen Debra in a burgundy dress the other day, seeing her in this outfit still took Juan by surprise. He hadn't realized how beautiful Debra could be. "I'm ready," Debra said, lifting her head. Juan pursed his lips. "I'll have my secretary bring the car around." Debra opened the door to see Joe waiting outside. Seeing Debra in the black dress, Joe was amazed. "Mrs. Nichols, you look stunning in this dress, better than Miss Miles." Juan glanced at him. Joe realized his mistake and quickly shut his mouth. "It's okay." Debra didn't care, and she got into the car. Juan glared at Joe and muttered, "You won't get your bonus this month." Joe felt wronged but dared not say more. That was what he got for being too talkative. Outside the club, Juan helped Debra get out of the car. People around them cast admiring glances at them. "Who's the lady with Mr. Nichols?" "Seems to be Mrs. Nichols." "I don't recall seeing Mr. and Mrs. Nichols together before. They make quite the power couple." ... Juan took Debra's hand. Debra wanted to retract her hand, but with so many people around, she had to go along with Juan. Debra glanced around and saw many faces she had encountered in her last life. Juan had a certain prestige in the business world. To be able to attend such a high-level international event, the people here were all top entrepreneurs, philanthropists, or real estate tycoons. Debra had studied finance to impress Juan, but it never paid off. Suddenly, the sound of shattered glass grabbed everyone's attention. A gardener accidentally broke a vase of roses, and the manager scolded him. "Where did this old man come from? Get him out of here!" the manager barked. "Hold on." Debra stepped forward, picking up the roses from the ground. She noticed they were carefully pruned and rare. "This man ruined Mr. Houston's flowers and startled the guests. Let me have him removed," said the manager. "If it's broken, just ask him to prepare a new one," Debra said. "These roses were brought by Mr. Houston for everyone's enjoyment. How about each lady take one to appreciate his gesture?" Debra suggested. Everyone nodded, and the manager waved off the gardener. Juan stepped forward, lowering his voice. "I didn't expect you to liven up the atmosphere here." Debra shrugged. "Just trying to please Mr. Houston." Outside the club, Shelia stepped out of a taxi in a black dress, feeling strange gazes around her. She ignored them and tried to get into the club. The security guard glanced at the taxi and stopped her. "Miss, do you have an invitation?" Shelia was taken aback. She didn't know about invitations. With Juan, she could go anywhere. It was the first time she had been stopped by a security guard. "Sorry! No invitation, no entry." "I'm here to see Mr. Nichols. I'm his companion," Shelia lied. Squinting at her, the guard asked, "Mr. Nichols is already inside with Mrs. Nichols. Who are you?" Feeling the stares all around, Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Joe saw her and hurried over. "Excuse me, she's our company staff." The guard nodded, allowing Shelia through. Shelia breathed a sigh of relief, but Joe asked sternly, "Miss Miles, why are you here?" "I just wanted to broaden my horizons. Mr. Nichols always said I was too timid. I'll be going abroad in a few months, so I wanted to experience this kind of event. Joe, could you take me in?" Joe hesitated. "I'll return from studying and help Mr. Nichols. The piece of land Debra bought cost billions and was a loss. She probably doesn't understand finance. So many financial elites are here. I'm worried Mrs. Nichols won't be able to handle it," Shelia pleaded sincerely. Joe nodded in agreement. In the past, it was always Shelia by Juan's side because Debra knew nothing about finance, and Joe respected Shelia, who was talented in this area. Shelia joyfully entered the club and spotted Juan conversing with some guests not far away. She lifted the hem of her dress to run over, but she accidentally collided with an old man. The gardener's vase slipped, and the water splashed on Shelia's dress. She instinctively exclaimed and freaked out when she saw the stain. "What's wrong with you? Can't you watch where you're going?" Chapter 6 Her cry pierced through the room. All eyes, including Juan's and Debra's, turned to her. In their eyes, Shelia was a rude and uncultured woman. The old gardener bent down to pick up the scattered roses and apologized profusely. Feeling the stares around her, Shelia quickly changed her attitude. "I'm sorry. I was in haste. Are you okay, sir?" Debra watched from nearby. Even though Shelia tried to fix it, it only came off as insincere. Shelia also noticed Debra beside Juan. "How did she get here?" Juan frowned. Given his expression, he seemed clueless about Shelia's arrival. Debra wondered if Shelia came on her own. Debra stayed silent. This plot was different from that of her last life. Juan brought Shelia to the party, where Shelia impressed Caleb Houston. It led to a smooth path overseas and success after graduation with support from Juan and Caleb. Debra thought that Shelia would not show up this time. Yet here she was. "Mr. Nichols!" Hearing the commotion, Joe rushed in. Juan's tone was curt. "Who let her in?" "It was me." Joe bowed his head. "I thought Miss Miles could help you." Juan rubbed his temples. He used to be very tolerant of Shelia. But in this situation, Shelia shouldn't have appeared. "Miss Miles isn't familiar with the place. Go check on her," Debra said, taking a sip of champagne. Juan saw Shelia's scared looks, and he couldn't bear to leave her alone to handle the situation. "I'll be back in a moment." Debra said nothing. That was expected. He could never let go of Shelia. Juan went over and asked, "How did you come here?" Shelia lowered her head, looking pitiful. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see the event." Seeing her tear up, Juan couldn't bring himself to say anything harsh. In a sense, Shelia was trained by him, and he had seen all her efforts. "I'll have Joe take you back." Seeing Juan about to leave, Shelia hurriedly grabbed his sleeve. "Mr. Nichols, can I stay?" Juan frowned. In the past, Shelia was always obedient and aware of her identity, never crossing that boundary. Shelia felt his displeasure and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Nichols. I..." Juan relented in the end. "You can stay. This event could be helpful for your overseas studies." Shelia finally broke into a sweet smile. "Can I stay with you?" Juan glanced at the surrounding crowd, concerned about leaving Shelia alone here. "Yeah." Shelia was delighted. Joe couldn't help but ask, "Sir, what about Mrs. Nichols?" "Go accompany her. Don't let her cause trouble like last time." Juan knew that Debra often attended such events, but as someone unfamiliar with finance, she was here merely to pass the time. As long as she didn't cause trouble like last time, it was fine. Debra watched as Joe approached her. Before he could say anything, she asked, "He's gone to accompany Shelia?" "Miss Miles is a key candidate for the company, so..." "I understand." Debra looked as if she was not bothered at all. Joe breathed a sigh of relief. But somehow, he felt that Debra had changed. Shelia followed Juan and confidently conversed with some bigwigs, which was noticed by Debra. Although Shelia had good grades at school, she was still just a student. In front of these seasoned businessmen, what she said wasn't very insightful. They were only praising Shelia out of respect for Juan. However, soon Shelia faced difficulty with a foreign elderly gentleman. Debra recognized that man as a financial tycoon from Dawnreach. He only spoke his native language and didn't know any foreign languages. And his translator was absent. "Mr. Nichols..." Shelia bit her lip, glancing at Juan. Juan was pondering how to defuse the awkwardness when Debra approached and fluently conversed with the man. The man seemed quite pleased with what Debra said and shook hands with her. Shelia finally noticed Debra, dressed in an identical black dress. Compared to her, Debra seemed like a refined lady, while she looked like a street vendor. Shelia clenched her fists and forced a smile. "Debra, that's impressive. You can speak the Dawnreach language." Debra smiled without saying anything. Juan remembered that Debra could speak foreign languages, but Dawnreach language wasn't widely used. Not many people knew it, so he was surprised that Debra was fluent in it. "What did you say to Mr. Stephen? He seemed quite pleased," Shelia asked. "I told him that the piece of land he bought near the southeastern sea is going to get a good prince, so he's happy," Debra replied. "That piece of land will get a a good price?" Shelia looked puzzled. The land didn't seem extraordinary. "Maybe," Debra replied casually. In her last life, that piece of land did get a considerable sum. The area suddenly developed into a tourist destination, making a hefty profit from tourism. Mr. Stephen probably foresaw its development, hence his purchase. Shelia lacked that foresight. Juan stared at Debra, which made her uncomfortable. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Debra asked. "How did you know that the land would get a good price?" Juan said. Chapter 7 Given his expression, Juan knew that this plot of land would fetch a hefty sum. Yet he chose to let Stephen have it as a favor. That was just Juan's style. "I was just paying a compliment. You're reading too much into it," Debra replied. Juan furrowed his brow, assessing the sincerity of Debra's words. It made sense. Given Debra's intelligence, how could she see the future value of that land? Juan realized he was overthinking it. "Hope so." Juan turned away, leading Shelia to meet other people. Shelia glanced at Debra. Debra managed to capture the hint of triumph in Shelia's eyes. She downed a glass of champagne. In the eyes of others, she was just a failed woman abandoned by her husband. Her husband left her and took another woman to meet business partners. Could anything be more of a joke than this? Debra felt disheartened. She had planned to mingle with the business elites, but with Juan gone, it became difficult. How could she approach those entrepreneurs without seeming intentional? Debra scanned the surroundings and spotted a piano not far away. A smile played on Debra's lips as she got an idea. With graceful steps, Debra approached the piano and exchanged brief greetings with the pianist before sitting down. As the heiress to the Frazier family, she had to learn many things, though she never thought she'd use them. But now they had come in handy. It had been a while since Debra played the piano, so she was a bit rusty. But soon enough, the piano keys followed her fingers, producing a melodious tune that perfectly matched the atmosphere of the party. The guests were captivated by the unexpected piano music. Many turned to look in her direction, and after she finished playing, applause filled the room. Seeing Juan and the businessmen stop their conversation, Shelia kept her eyes on Debra and said, "Debra is amazing. She can play the piano." "She is a pro," Juan remarked casually. Among these people, many could play the piano, and passing relevant exams was quite common. The fact that Debra received so much applause showed her musical talent. It was then that Shelia realized the gap between her and Debra. She used to think Debra was just lucky and pretty, but utterly useless. Now she was proven wrong. She was dead wrong. After Debra finished playing, many wealthy ladies approached her for conversation. While she couldn't directly approach those business magnates, getting close to their wives made it easier to reach them. "I didn't expect Mrs. Nichols to be so talented at the piano," Randy remarked from a corner. "Not bad," Marion agreed. "You don't know music, do you?" Randy teased. "I don't, but I like it," Marion replied. He didn't understand music, but because it was Debra playing, it felt different. When she went to the restroom, Debra was pulled into a secluded corner. She tried to cry out, but the man behind her covered her mouth. "Don't make a sound," the man whispered. Feeling the warmth of his body, Debra adjusted her breathing and bit down on the man's hand. "Ouch!" he grunted in pain. "You bit me?" The man released her. Debra quickly put some distance between them and was surprised when she saw his face. "Marion?" "Who else did you think it would be?" "Why the cloak and dagger?" "I sneaked in. Don't want to be seen." "What kind of joke is this? Caleb is your..." Before Debra could finish her sentence, she immediately shut her mouth. Marion raised an eyebrow. "Hm? What were you going to say?" Debra averted her gaze. In her last life, Caleb left all his assets to Marion. It was only after that she found out the truth. But so far, no one knew Marion was Caleb's grandson. "I mean, Caleb is kind-hearted, and you're a dominant owner of overseas enterprises. Even if you snuck in, no one would dare say anything." "Maybe, but I prefer to play it safe," Marion said. "Don't tell me you snuck in here just to say these things to me." She didn't think Marion would be so boring. "This is for you." Marion handed Debra a contract. Debra looked down and saw the contract for her borrowing. "Just for this?" she asked. Marion nodded. "Boring!" Debra signed the contract and threw it back to Marion. It was crazy that he found her to sign the contract at the door of the ladies' room. "As your creditor, can I ask you a question?" "Go ahead." "Why spend ten billion on that land?" Marion's voice was low, tempting her to answer his question. "I can't tell you now," Debra said. "What if I insist?" Marion could tell Debra had other plans. But he couldn't figure out what could be worth ten billion there. It was a loss-making business, but Debra's actions made him believe the land would be worth far more than ten billion. "If I told you this land would be worth a lot in six months, would you believe me?" Debra asked. "No." Marion couldn't see any signs of it yet. "What if I said high-end properties around that wasteland are about to come into the market?" Debra asked. "What high-end properties?" Marion frowned. He had never heard of that. "You'll find out soon enough," Debra smiled, walking past Marion into the restroom. Frowning, Marion walked to the lobby, where Randy asked, "Done signing?" "Yeah," Marion said. "Why the long face?" Randy asked. "Is there any high-end property near the wasteland Debra bought?" "There aren't any." "Check who owns the land around that wasteland." "That wasteland is in the sewage area. There's nothing to check. Forget high-end properties. No one would even build a basketball court there," Randy said. "Sewage area?" Marion was surprised. Chapter 8 Moments later, Shelia emerged from the restroom, her face looking grim. She was now dressed in a white gown. "What's wrong?" Juan asked. "I just changed in the restroom and thought I saw Debra." "Debra?" Shelia nodded. "I saw Debra with that man. They seemed intimate." Shelia observed Juan's expression and quickly added, "But I might have been mistaken. How could Debra know someone like Marion? I heard he's a desperado." "Debra..." Juan's tone turned cold. He had noticed Marion's interest in Debra last time. 'Doesn't she know how to avoid danger? Even getting close to someone like Marion.' Juan felt upset. Debra emerged from the restroom and was puzzled about Juan's dissatisfaction. "Where did you go?" Juan whispered. "Me? I went to the restroom." Debra was confused. Shelia stepped forward, pretending to be affectionate, as she grabbed Debra's hand. "Debra, I saw it just now. Marion is not a good person. Don't let him deceive you." Debra instinctively withdrew her hand. Shelia's hand hung in mid-air, and she looked aggrieved. "I didn't tell Mr. Nichols about it on purpose, but Marion is really not a good person." "I know what kind of person Marion is. I don't need others to judge," Debra huffed. "I..." Shelia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Shelia is looking out for you. Don't be oblivious and offend the wrong people," Juan warned. Shelia tugged at Juan's sleeve, as if to imply he was being too harsh. If other people saw it, they might think that Shelia was Juan's wife. "In any case, it's best not to get close to Marion. You're a woman of high standing, while he's a man without upbringing. How could you have any ties with him?" Shelia said. Suddenly, the sound of a cane hitting the ground came. Everyone turned to see an elderly man with gray hair standing in the center of the hall. Debra turned around, feeling a sense of familiarity. Soon, she recognized the old man as the gardener who had been arranging vases in the hall earlier. Now, the old man was dressed in a suit, flanked by two bodyguards. His stern gaze carried a hint of ruthlessness, making people wary. "This is Mr. Caleb Houston," one of the bodyguards introduced. Everyone in the vicinity raised their glasses respectfully to the old man. Only Shelia was pale. The old man she had scolded just now turned out to be Caleb. Shortly after, Marion emerged from behind Caleb and stood by his side, supporting him. Debra suddenly had a bad feeling. Marion looked at Debra and slowly smirked. "Ladies and gentlemen, I invited you all here today to declare that Marion is my grandson, the sole heir of the Houston family." Caleb coldly glanced at Shelia. Shelia felt a chill. "He is not some wild man without upbringing," Caleb said. Everyone in the room was astonished, and Debra's heart was pounding. 'Something is not right. The timeline has changed. How could this happen?' | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/460723184_1095471925484796_4129625463197719825_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5PoqQLlFUBMQ7kNvgF0ZFFU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AJ8X3ONxY_vOf4UIUPiWLiE&oh=00_AYBLpyN-Hd-LuxaMOf_Wh2PneBtkX6hi8_oFWJtORjUpnQ&oe=6745AB89 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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