The man's face was gloomy and cold, and his voice was hoarse and somewhat impatient.
She didn't dare to look him in the eye, but she could feel his intense gaze boring into her body.
He walked straight to the villa in a thin shirt on the late autumn day.
But he didn't seem to feel cold, and his figure was straight.
Richie was now in the most terrible time, because she had no idea whether he would turn over in the
next second.
And she wouldn't be able to fight back if he turned his back on her.
She trotted beside him and looked up only to see the bruise at the corner of his mouth, which was
slightly pink. It was beaten like that.
"I'll go and bring you the clothes." Consuela stopped following after him, turned around and left without
hesitation.
She had to admit that she was a little scared. The feeling from the bottom of her heart was so strong
that she could not ignore it.
She either hated him or was afraid of him.
Looking at the anxious woman, Richie darkened his face. He ignored her and left directly.
As if there was no one in the world who could get his wait.
On the other hand, Consuela had been watching him since she ran away. She didn't open the car door
and take out his coat until she saw him enter the villa.
The night fell, and the street lights were on. Their white car seemed to be coated with a warm light.
Consuela leaned against the car and sighed. The lights in the villa were on, washing the darkness.
But that man was a time bomb. No one knew when he would find fault with you.
However, she had to show her kindness to him. When someone was sad, it was others who took
advantage of the opportunity to approach the most suitable time.
No matter how scared she was, she couldn't waste this rare opportunity.
Richie, who she had thought to be powerful, was defeated by the love story occurred three years ago.
Consuela let out a long and turbid breath and grabbed her clothes to take a gulp of spiritual chicken
soup at once.
Entering the villa, she deliberately slowed down every move. It took three times the time to change her
shoes as usual. Her big round eyes looked around.
Putting on her shoes, she walked into the living room, pretending to be calm. She was stepping on the
soft carpet, which Richie had asked to change.
At the thought of the good things that Richie had done to her, Consuela comforted herself that he
wasn't that terrible.
She saw the man on the sofa of the living room, sitting in a place she usually occupied, and the light
couldn't reach his eyes.
This was a sign of boundless anger. She suddenly did not dare to go forward and say anything.
But she was also glad that the man didn't want to throw anything now.
She put his coat on the chair beside and ran upstairs as soon as she could. When she turned her head
back, she bumped into the man's eyes.
They looked at each other, calm and shocked.
The corners of Consuela's mouth twitched. She went straight upstairs before the man could make a
sound.
She was not sure how she could comfort that man.
He seemed to refuse everyone's heart. For this restricted area three years ago, he could even beat his
best friend, not to mention her.
This was just a pretentious excuse for her retreat. When she walked into Richie's bedroom, she
couldn't help but sigh.
It was said that habits developed naturally, and she was oppressive to develop a habit.
She couldn't live here anymore. Who knew what would be done by the man with a bad temper at the
moment.
She walked out of the bedroom with the clothes in her hands. On the corridor, she could see where
Richie sat. It seemed that he had drawn a place as a prison.
He didn't want to leave, and no one could take him away.
Frowning, Consuela went back to the guest room. After taking a bath, she went downstairs, filled a
glass of warm water and walked towards the man.
Without opening her mouth, she didn't know that her voice was a little trembling, "It would be better to
drink water."
No matter what kind of disease people were suffering, they should be urged to drink water before being
comforted. It seemed that water was everything.
It was a sore spot in his heart.
But the man didn't take it, and he even didn't raise his head. He lowered his head, and his back was as
straight as ever, like a despondent emperor who refused all help.
"Don't think too much about it. The past is past. Everyone should get a new life after going through
some things." Consuela started filling the chicken soup to Richie.
Maybe that was not the most important thing for those who had let go.
But she accepted no response, except for his disdainful chuckle.
After glaring at him for a few seconds, she put her hands on the table. She didn't care how he thought
of her, because she had no other choice.
She should have made the bed and fallen asleep, leaving him alone.
Before she could turn around, her arm was grabbed from behind. She was pressed on the sofa in a
whirl.
Consuela felt that there was no space between their bodies, as if a pair of big hands were stripping off
her remaining oxygen, coughing to suppress the rapid beating of the heart.
Their postures were so ambiguous that they could act as a love action movie, but the leading man's
eyes were bloodshot and his expression was ferocious.
She tried to push him away, but the body got even tighter, as if trying to shoo the last oxygen out of her
chest.
What a mad man!
The man put one hand on the side of the sofa and touched her fair and small face with his other hand,
then drew her eyes and her lips.
Trembling, Consuela was afraid that the man's face would change the color the next moment.
"Who do you think you are? It's none of your business. Aren't you afraid of me? Why do you pretend to
be righteous?"
The man's magnetic and hoarse voice rang over her head, as if to shatter her last hope.
Consuela's face went pale. She could feel the erection in the lower part of his body. It was burning hot
to touch her skin.
Richie was always a beast in her eyes.
She clenched her teeth, turned around and opened her eyes, then directly met Richie's dark eyes.
Before she could think of anything, Richie had already bowed his head.
"You asked for it yourself." His words made sense without any guilt.
The woman opened her eyes and wanted to refute, but was frightened by the sudden kiss.
In fact, Richie was not kissing her. He just bit, ignoring her will. He used his lips and tongue to describe
the taste of her again and again.
'This bastard is worse than a beast.'
After being bitten, she took a deep breath because of the pain. When their lips met, their mouths were
mixed with a slight metallic taste.
Startled, Consuela had no choice but to surrender. She didn't dare to bite the man back.
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