"I thought you had forgotten the way home."
Moreau had just stepped into the living room, but she had to find her mother there, waiting as if the woman's time was dedicated to only one thing. "Where were you last night?" This time the direct question was left floating around in the air. Moreau didn't know if it was necessary to be sure of the moment - the right moment to say the answer. Perhaps he would never get the chance if he ignored everything here. "Anywhere, as long as it's a place where I can sleep comfortably." The boldness behind Moreau's voice seemed to set Barbara's reaction in motion. The woman immediately got up and folded her arms in front of her chest. "You can just say specifically where you were last night. I know you didn't go to Juan's residence, but that doesn't mean you have to let me think too much," the woman said. The sour expressionIt was not surprising that it would end up like that. Moreau could guess the truth. A correlation between Samuel and Barbara. A sudden curiosity arose; she half thought of who was most important to blame. Her mother obviously had a covert relationship with Samuel. Was he also the same person she saw on Abihirt's cell phone? It made sense that the thought actually faced a barely distant approach. Moreau shook her head vaguely... that was all she had to say. "I don't know what you're thinking, Mom. But you're not kidding, are you?" The corner of Barbara's lips twitched slightly, almost a snicker to be precise, but still held back a little. "No, I'm not. I'm not joking. If you agree, I'll arrange for you to meet." "You don't need to bother arranging our schedule. I will never agree," Moreau argued firmly. This was what Barbara wante
The sound of the bedroom door opening reminded Moreau that she was not alone with her thoughts. Her body immediately shifted into alert after being engulfed in a slumped position and hugging a pillow while playing with her phone without interest. Prying was not something Moreau had put on her list of habits, but Barbara had let her do it. God knows what else the woman was doing, so surprisingly Abihirt appeared; pausing an inch away just to look at her on the bed. Whatever if the man was going to get stuck there. Moreau had no intention of saying anything. She knew her stepfather well enough to know the man's desire would be quite significant. Abihirt could not have come without a purpose. "Your mother asked you to the kitchen for dinner." Something else took over. This was hardly ever a part of her mother's patch of demeanor. Barbara's idea of dinner after everything that always made them argue through some reason
Moreau did not think that she needed to take refuge under the lone facility of her stepfather, and it was most likely that it would give Abihirt a clue just to catch up. For now, Moreau did not want anything about the man to enter into her decision. Not as worthy as his previous defense. Barbara was probably enjoying a night of merriment after taking her revenge. Moreau would not take her mother seriously. What she had done could have hurt the woman's feelings even more, had Barbara's knowledge been doused in something truly explosive at one time. Unfortunately Moreau would not let that happen. She would just have to wait until the agreement boldly printed on white paper... slowly passed the expiration process. Six months. Won't be long now. Then it would all end like a long, beautiful dream. Moreau longed for that day to come. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she flopped onto the bed. She was in a hotel, but not in the room where she and Abihirt had first had sex. It was sad
"Caroline, do you know where Moreau is? She hasn't been seen since earlier." Barbara had prepared herself for a trip to the office. Her eyes darted all over the yard. The garage didn't show where Moreau's car was parked either. It was odd enough to simply pull a hard stomping step off the front porch. There was only one destination. She rushed up the steps. She had fought hard not to be affected, but the closing of Moreau's bedroom door sometimes seemed to release the hormones of suspicion. It really made Barbara harbor one definite conviction by immediately pressing the doorframe. A silent empty room immediately greeted her face. There was no one. Barbara glared seriously with a sour expression on her face. Caroline followed behind and probably got a bit of the same reaction when she found no clues there. "It looks like Miss Moreau is not at home, ma'am. She must have gone to practice." Faintly, the corners of Barbara's lips twitched, almost even adding a sardonic twitch as s
Barbara repeatedly exhaled. Restless. Squeezing the fingers of one hand while staring at a series of images on the website of the Smift company. This was not good news. It would indeed be a steep drop if it was not resolved quickly. There had to be a confession, because after all, outrage spread immediately after learning Moreau was modeling women for a business competitor. The front cover was marked with Moreau's face taking center stage in an instant, but that was not all. There was one other thing that felt odd to Barbara. Something familiar. She strongly recalled the presence of someone who was also involved there, although she didn't want to think too badly about the sturdy arms wrapped around Moreau's body taking center stage. It was like discovering a delicious dish, though really—Barbara had no intention of being accusatory. For her, it was not a difficult act to unravel the tangled threads of things that had just happened. She still remembered that Abihirt had alleged
"Not really, but yes... the male model is very similar to your body shape." There was some kind of idiosyncratic response that Barbara found. She didn't know if Abihirt would smile as a faint grin at that: something that never really happened, or just a pure reaction that Barbara shouldn't be too sure about. There was no denying the specific part about Abihirt being nervous, which was actually... not at all. "I can't remember the last time you wanted to be photographed together," Barbara said simply looking for a gap between them. Pretend, then she could trap her husband into a confession trap to make up for her suspicion. "There aren't even many pictures of our wedding. Even if there were, you asked me not to publish them." Barbara added with a bit of an aggressive statement. Perhaps it was not with her husband that she
After finishing training and receiving a scathing critique from Anitta about the slight changes the woman had found in some parts of her body, Moreau finally had no choice but to try to agree with everything—including Barbara who again sent a message about an important matter. Moreau knew the specifics of what to expect. The shoot was even deliberately added in the middle of her request. Something that should not have been done, although it had already surfaced and made her feel almost half disgusted. After all, no matter how much hostility Barbara showed, hadn't Moreau herself been waiting for moments like this... that wouldn't let go no matter how hard she tried to get rid of the part that was stuck to her shoulder? A consequence, a risky risk, or a complicated matter to be resolved. Now Moreau would not avoid the prospect. Just a little confused when she first set foot into the house, but no angry welcome. Usually it was most common to find Barbar
"The male model you were with was Abi, right?" It was exactly like that. In the end, Moreau's fear came to pass. She knew her mother wasn't stupid enough to not recognize the shape of Abihirt's arm, but the anticipation was already in full design. Moreau realized she was going to learn how to be like this. "Abi? Your husband?" she asked almost deliberately in amazement. The special spark in Barbara's mind needed convincing. Moreau was trying. Hoping it didn't include a complicated journey and something that might catch fire. "You knew your own mother, Moreau." Moreau took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "That's why I don't quite understand why you brought Abi's name up here. He's your husband. You should know him better, Mom," s
[Abi, can I borrow your phone to send you my pictures from the desert ....] Barbara's whole body boiled at the thought of what her logic was unraveling. Abihirt said that the man was still in Dubai; he would be home soon, but it was surprising to find Moreau's voice sneaking in between their conversation. This could not be regretted. No matter how much Barbara tried to deny it. She had sifted through everything that had happened there, clearly... very clearly that Moreau needed photos in the desert to send to the girl's cell phone. Probably no further explanation of what had actually happened was expected. Hell, Barbara hadn't even said a word and demanded that Abihirt talk about everything her husband had been hiding, including when Abihirt claimed to be unaware of Moreau's whereabouts the last time she had called the man while talking about her daughter's whereabouts. However, the call was unexpectedly dropped. Really, Barbara couldn't accept that one lit
However, for a moment Moreau turned her head towards herstep father when she touched the doorknob. Abihirt unexpectedly grabbed the man's cell phone on the nightstand. Perhaps there was an important rush, which indirectly reminded Moreau that there was one thing—she had forgotten to say to her stepfather. This wouldn't take long. She would just wash her face with a splash of water, then return to the man. Indeed, not for long. When Moreau looked at her reflection in the mirror, the first thing she did was take a deep breath. All the devices here belonged only to Abihirt. She would brush her teeth, later, at home. Now it was best to approach the man on the bed. Suddenly Moreau's inner explosion became enthusiastic. She had been looking forward to sending pictures in the desert that day, after starting to operate the new cell phone her stepfather had given her. Hoping Abihirt wouldn't mind when she mentioned her wildly raging goals. Moreau hurriedly crossed t
Although it wasn't .... Moreau felt something heavy pressing around her body. She blinked a few times to realize that the habitual light from the window was trying to penetrate through the dangling curtains. It was already morning. It seemed like last night's request for sleep had put her into a deep slumber. Moreau would have nothing to say about that. It was all in the past and there was no need to relive something that always ended in uncertainty in the end. As she tried to shift, she sucked in as much air as she could, wanting to stretch her stiff bones a little, but soon realized that there was hardly any room to move. Someone seemed to have trapped her; inhaling the masculine scent that rushed in, until Moreau unintentionally touched a strand of hair—it felt smooth, and she kept brushing her palm gently there. This seemed to leave a certain sensation, not knowing why the corners of her lips instinctively curled up slightly; perhaps it was because she
"Why do you keep squeezing me like this?" It took a lot of courage and determination for Moreau to finally ask the question in a half-whisper. She wanted to look back, but the clear presence of Abihirt's face made their cheeks touch. The man would certainly not say anything. Moreau instinctively let out a rough breath; letting Abihirt position himself better and now the man's face was almost trapped in the crook of her neck. Abihirt was not sleeping. That was the least Moreau could feel. Probably not going to fall asleep anytime soon either, though the man admitted to not doing much of anything himself after their long journey. After all, there were things left between them that Moreau wasn't going to just reveal. It was still about Froy and she would try to find clues. "I thought of something." Moreau began with a sense of alarm rising swiftly in her mind. When Abihirt walked into the trap, she was sure the man wouldn't suddenly become very quiet.
It was fun teasing Abihirt. That was how Moreau felt. This time she was really daring. Really going to be defiant with her stepfather and tentatively tugging at the fabric to leave only a contrasting lacy undergarment. Letting a pause occur for a moment, then hesitantly glancing at Abihirt as she had to carefully cover some parts of her body in front of the man. She was the one trying to provoke something to explode in Abihirt, but didn't want her mother's husband to be brutalized and left unrescued. Now, as she slowly inserted her hands into the holes of the cloth—wearing the T-shirt given by the man appropriately. It was done. Moreau's body was wrapped. She seemed to be drowning. Immediately looked down and witnessed how the edge of the cloth was definitely touching her thighs. Abihirt correctly guessed not to add pants. Just a thin satin undergarment and it made Moreau feel comfortable. "I'm going to bed now," she said, hurriedly looking up, only to find
Moreau looked down; realizing that she needed to do the same, but her suitcase and all her new clothes, which he had prepared when they were about to head to Dubai, were still in the car. Abihirt had given no clue about the items left outside. Perhaps he would prepare them later, when they were fully prepared and Moreau only had to wait for him to finish the remaining parts. She would not sit idly by, soon catching up to wake up and applying attention to the last time Barbara's husband's sturdy shoulders were still visible behind. Perhaps too presumptuous. Yes, it was. However, it was better than never. Every detail of Abihirt's actions was so unpredictable. The man had dressed up in an instant right there. That, at least, needed to be emphasized. There was nothing to regret, even though Moreau felt very nervous as those gray eyes stared at her intently. "You said you were still sleepy. Why aren't you sleeping?" Abihirt's deep, hoarse voice sounded as if a mistak
"I'm so sleepy and lazy to walk, can you just carry me?" Moreau did not want to take this too far when she could hardly protest to her stepfather; regarding the man's decision to be here, in the courtyard of the luxurious mansion, instead of returning to the house where they lived. Perhaps this would be enough of an understanding. Abihirt also did not show any reluctance to simply comply with what she had just tried to initiate between them, which silently made Moreau curl her lips slightly after detecting how the man got out of the car, then took a stance of taking her body—clinging tightly with both hands fully attached there. Moreau instinctively held on to her stepfather's neck. She looked up. Admiring every detail on the man's face. There was almost nothing to miss. It felt nice to imagine being on a date and Abihirt being a good lover, doing what she wanted. Though... that might not be true. That man was still her stepfather. He would always b
"I was just wondering how I could change my husband. What do you think about having child?" Barbara asked slowly. There was a look of regret when she said this. Samuel wouldn't understand her and she had no intention of telling him more. "A child from me or Abi?" Instead of offering suggestions, the man asked as if there were so many options, but Barbara needed to pick one. Yes, only one and no one could change the game she was about to start. "It's definitely Abi. He's my husband," she said indisputably. "But I touch you a lot." Woe betide her; Samuel had a way of simply knocking down the hopes she had built up on so many levels. Barbara exhaled harshly; feeling the need to raise the prospect of reality not being forgotten. "Even though you touch me often. Still, Abi is my husband. He touches me too. You're even." "Not even. You yourself admitted that Abi has been busy with a lot of work lately and it made you look for an escape. I've al
"Do you like cruise ship travel, Honey?" The sea breeze rushed across the surface of Barbara's body, leaving a sweeping impression that was too forced, but she was enjoying every bit of it here with Samuel and he had just whispered very softly in her face. Barbara smiled slightly at the feel of the man's arms reaching out tentatively, until the moving face had nuzzled around her neck. "Don't you do that, Sam!" warned Barbara after detecting that Samuel was about to take a dangerous action. She didn't want him to leave a reddish mark and if there was ever an urge to return home, she feared she would not be able to hide it from Abihirt's view. There was no word from her cold husband after the last time they had a phone conversation. Even Barbara needed to be pushed through a determined struggle until Abihirt was willing to accept a voice call and even then they spoke all too briefly. She was not satisfied yet. A little unwilling that Abihirt had gone on a trip to Dubai when s