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.
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