Tim put down his phone and forced a wry smile.
It was easy for him to refuse, and he would never believe what he heard or saw. But he knew that
seeing was believing.
It was hard to uproot such kind of idea once it was deeply rooted in one's mind.
"Bang Bang Bang..." There was a knock on the office door.
"Come in, please." Tim exhaled a deep breath and looked at the secretary in black and white suit
walking in. After putting up her black frame glasses, she reported the schedule to him.
"Mr. Tim, there's a document which needs your signature, and a client needs you to deliver it in person.
The dinner is set in half an hour."
"Okay, I know."
He pinched his forehead, the blue veins throbbing in his temples. Again, he scolded Richie in his heart,
leaving behind a lot of work that should be done by himself.
Instead, he was at home with his wife and the child who was about to be born.
After grumbling in his heart for a long time, he lifted the cup of coffee on the table and had a sip.
Immediately he felt a little depressed.
Cassie usually texted him or called him to remind him to have lunch. When she was not busy, she
would bring him to eat directly.
But ever since the last time she drank and cursed, the relationship between the two had not been as
warm as before. He did not have the mood to play up to her, and Cassie should have also felt heart
broken.
Sometimes he felt that it was good to live like this, and sometimes he felt a little unaccustomed to it as
now, and then he felt depressed subconsciously.
But it was not a bad thing.
Suddenly, his private phone rang. Tim had just consoled himself. He picked it up and answered the
phone. His face darkened at the sight of the name.
It gave off a feeling that the sun met the thick and dark clouds, and didn't know when the warmth of the
sun would attack him.
The man in the villa put aside his work, smoked half a pack of cigarettes, and sat on the ground
regardless of his mysophobia.
He leaned against the French window and looked up at the bright lights not far away. There was an
unspeakable desolation and loneliness in his dark eyes.
The scarlet smoke was winding inch by inch between his fingers, and was about to burn to the skin of
his fingers. Then, it was thrown on the floor without hesitation.
It rolled a few circles on the wood floor. The scarlet little fire did not extinguish. In his eyes, there was a
glimmer of light.
As time went by, the door was pushed open and a little head came out from it.
The one flashed a pair of black, white, clear eyes, and swept directly at the desk. When she didn't see
the person she wanted to see, she frowned slightly.
Richie watched quietly as the woman's facial expressions changed. He was also counting the time. He
wondered when the dull woman would find him.
Suddenly, a light burst out from his dim eyes, like a light that pointed the direction in the dark, which
lightened his mood inexplicably.
But he didn't notice it at all.
Consuela didn't see him. She wondered how he had disappeared all of a sudden.
Was there any secret gears in the study? Was there a mysterious door at the back of the book? And
then was there a large amount of treasure?
She looked around the study with her big round eyes. When she thought of the miserable death of the
people in TV series who knew too much, she wasn't interested in finding out the truth.
The table in front of the study blocked the sight of Richie. He stood still, but she couldn't see him.
As she was about to leave, a cough attracted her attention. She walked inside, and saw decadent yet
not very embarrassed Richie.
There were many cigarette butts at his feet. His dark eyes looked at her, deep and bright. It attracted
her to explore him, and then drown her.
She couldn't deny that he was a handsome man no matter what kind of thing he tossed about.
Looking straight into the man's eyes, she suddenly felt as if she was a head lower than him.
Even if he was only sitting on the ground, he put one of his hands on a crooked long leg and stared at
her with dark eyes, as if a young wolf had seen a prey that broke into his territory.
After a moment of silence, Consuela straightened up, trying to make herself look as imposing as
possible. She then stood up and asked, "what kind of art are you playing?"
When she walked in, she didn't find the smell of the room unpleasant. It was as if someone blindly
poured nicotine into the room, making her difficult to breathe.
It was really difficult for Richie to sit here for a long time.
She walked to the window and opened it to breathe some fresh air. After a long while, she didn't hear
him.
She turned her head and looked directly into his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"I'm playing the lonely tracker. I shouldn't have spoken much," he mocked.
But he pretended to be serious, and his slanted eyes were full of mysterious look. Maybe it was true
loneliness what he had just said.
Under the burning gaze, Consuela cracked a wry smile.
After looking at each other for a long time, suddenly, Richie stood up with one hand and turned his
head to the woman standing by the big window. "Let's go. Here is not suitable for a pregnant woman."
Consuela nodded. The smell of tobacco in this place was too strong. If she stayed here a little longer,
she would doubt whether she could be oxygen starved.
They left the study together. Consuela didn't ask him why he smoked there, and Richie didn't explain.
Their tacit understanding at this time was always ridiculously high.
They were not willing to tell each other their bottom line stories, but at the same time, they both hoped
that each other could be honest to themselves. This was contradictory and selfish.
In the living room, a variety of delicious dishes had been served on the dining table. The food in front of
Richie was all delicious, and in front of Consuela on the dining table, there were many kinds of
nutritious food for pregnant woman.
Looking at the nutritious food, Consuela couldn't eat anything. It was hard for her to have a meal
happily. She picked the rice to express her dissatisfaction.
Noticing the change in the woman's facial expression, Richie didn't say anything else. He silently ate
the food, with the envious look on his wife's face.
The more she looked at it, the more upset she felt. Finally, she reached out her chopsticks and took a
lobster. She yelled, "Are you punishing a pregnant woman's stomach?"
"You should know that I'm not your child's stepfather. The reason why I make this menu is that I want to
help you nourish your blood vitality. Otherwise, you'll be the one to suffer from it."
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