But she didn't expect that when she took up a microphone and was about to sit in front of the ordering
platform, the long leg man next to her had sat down impolitely.
The second time she smelt the perfume she was so familiar with, she had an impulse to run away,
though the man had helped her avoid the conversation with Adriana not long ago.
When she was about to turn around, she heard the man's attractive voice over her eardrum. "What
song do you want to sing? We can order some together. "
He was such an easy-going man. It would not be nice of her to refuse him again.
Out of options, Consuela had to thank the man for his help, and then she told a few songs she could
sing, and after the man smiled back at her, she immediately went back to her seat.
Her phone was out of power and had been turned off, but the woman sitting next to her was browsing
the Twitter without mercy and laughing from time to time.
There was still a faint smell of nicotine on her body. She hadn't been out for a long time. She must have
only smoked a cigarette.
Listening to the pleasant music, Consuela sensed the unusual noises coming from the LED screen.
She focused her eyes on the screen to find out that she was the one who started the song.
No matter what kind of songs she was singing, she would always have a little bit of out of tune. She
picked up the microphone and concentrated on the music. She closed her eyes and concentrated on
the music. At last, she simply hummed.
Just then, a clean, attractive male voice started to sing with her, just the climax of the song.
Consuela suddenly opened her eyes and stared at the man who was sitting in front of the ordering
platform. He didn't look back. He kept focusing on the scrolling long subtitles.
His back was straight and thin.
Suddenly, Consuela stopped singing. The man didn't say anything but continued to sing. He had
finished most of the songs that she wanted to sing.
If Adriana was here, she would be infuriated.
Maybe the woman had expected that. She claimed that she was tired and asked Terence to take them
to each of the places for fun.
After the activity, Stacy drove Consuela to a bus station. The woman sitting in the sports car raised her
eyebrows and asked, "Don't you need me to drive you home?"
Focusing on unfastening her seatbelt, Consuela shook her head and said, "No, thank you. I'll take the
bus there in half an hour."
Lowering her head, Stacy looked at her bulging belly. Still, she was a little worried. "How about you give
the baby's father a call?" she suggested.
At this moment, Consuela had unfastened her seatbelt and got out of the car. Stepping on the road,
she turned around and said smilingly, "I'm really fine. You can leave now. Be careful on the way."
After saying these polite words, she waved to her and walked across a zebra crossing without traffic
lights.
Someone started honking behind Stacy's car. She didn't stay long, but drove away.
Consuela pretended to be waiting for a bus at the station. When the car disappeared from her sight,
she heaved a sigh and stretched out her hand to call for a cab.
There was no direct bus to that place. In a word, she just didn't want others to know her current
situation.
Richie was worried that she would bring him shame by announcing her true identity as the hostess of
Sruthan Group. In this way, she might not want to admit her true identity.
They just hated each other.
After stopping a car, she got in and told the driver the address, ignoring his gaze.
That was a place where the so-called rich and powerful people could live. Few people wanted to go
there by taxi.
When Consuela arrived at the villa, the man hadn't come back yet.
She rubbed her forehead and walked towards the second floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw
Emily rushing towards her.
She stopped and turned to the person. "What's up, Emily?"
The woman took hold of Consuela's hand nervously. "Mrs. Richie, where have you been? You didn't
answer the phone. Mr. Richie got angry again."
There was a hint of complaint in her tone. A dash of guilt flashed through Consuela's eyes as she was
speaking. But after she finished speaking, her face went stiff.
He'd rather die in depression.
But in the face of this woman who usually treated herself well, she couldn't say anything in this way.
She admitted her mistake with a smile, "An old classmate got married today. We had a good time and
forgot to call back. I'm sorry."
She had no doubt that if she said it out aloud, it would definitely reach that man's ears in less than ten
minutes.
"That's all right as long as you are fine. I will inform Mr. Richie of your safety right now." Emily nodded,
let go of her hand, turned around and left in a hurry.
Pursing her lips, Consuela didn't say anything more.
In this villa, she was probably just the nominal Mrs. Richie and everything was done according to the
instructions of Richie.
Now they were living together happily. If she waited until that man was unhappy one day and wanted to
teach her a lesson, she would never have a good end.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Consuela walked upstairs with her cheeks
puffed up. She was afraid that the person who died suddenly would become her own because of her
anger. But in this way, it was not impossible.
After returning to the master bedroom, she threw herself directly into that big bed. All the traces of
confusion were suppressed peacefully, too clean to be used to.
The window was also opened. To fresh the air, on the windowsill was a pot of pink flowers, which
emitted a faint fragrance.
After tossing and turning for a while, she suddenly sat up and went to the bathroom to take a shower
considering her pregnancy. When she looked for clothes in the wardrobe, she suddenly felt a little
depressed.
When Richie came back, there was a clear smell of wine. She didn't know how much he had drunk, but
she could smell the alcohol on his face. His face, which had never changed before, had been dyed with
rouge.
But he knew very well that he was in a cold war with Consuela. Looking at the woman who was
watching TV dramas on the bedside, he sneered and went into the bathroom.
After the man closed the bathroom door, Consuela withdrew her sight from the TV and looked up at the
ceiling. She furrowed her eyebrows, wriggled her lips, unable to say a word.
When the man came out of the bathroom, he was only wearing a bathrobe and walking up and down
as if he was deliberately dressed in such a harsh way.
Now in the quiet room, Consuela didn't have the mood to watch anymore. She switched off the TV and
spoke loudly.
She raised her hand and closed the soap opera. She looked at the man standing not far away seriously
and said, "Richie, I have something to talk with you."
The man looked at her a few times unconcernedly. His contemptuous sight was as cold as the AK 47
spears, and a few bullets suddenly shot out to the woman's heart.
"What are you going to talk with me? What qualifications do you have to talk to me? "
His tone was full of anger.
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