Moreau's arm was outstretched, tentatively placing the bouquet of flowers sh3 had made next to the headstone bearing the name of her father, Jeremias Riveri, with a feeling of either awe or bewilderment.
Moreau breaks into a faint smile. Her fingertips rubbed the smooth ceramic surface in a careful and gentle gesture. She did not bring a gift. Didn't know what to choose. It would always be with a request. Moreau would ask and her father would answer-what the man wanted, and what patterned wrapping paper to use. This second time around the birthday celebration felt different, but Moreau took the initiative towards something. On the way to the cemetery, she stopped for a few moments to pick out a cake covered in melted cream. Her father loved chocolate and Moreau had bought a cake with dark sprinkles. She involuntarily smiled back as she opened the box. The lighter was already in hand. Just needed to light a firThe car was parked neatly. Moreau glanced around the corner of the basement of the hotel located in the city center. She half wondered if perhaps she had made a wrong trip. Perhaps a little confusion was trying to keep reality from slipping away? Almost too many doubts lingered in Moreau's mind, but she tried hard to deny them. There was no way Barbara could have given a false address. Supposedly, she didn't. Hadn't she also added that the meeting with Mr. Halland would take place at the hotel restaurant? Moreau snorted rudely, admitting that it was she who had taken the woman's conversation last night on the phone too seriously. For a moment her eyes glanced at the passenger seat. Something there had been so prepared. Hoping this would be over soon. It should really be over. Slowly Moreau loosened her grip on the steering wheel, she didn't even realize she was gripping tightly. It was because the worry
An irritating chuckle, to a satisfied tone like a thunderous lightning strike. Moreau ducked deeply to avoid any kiss from landing there. She even loudly shouted out to whoever might come to stop the insolent bastard when the man's lips were about to touch her cheek. "Let go!" Once again Moreau was still rebelling. Her one hand clenched tightly instinctively slammed into Mr. Halland's jaw. The man snarled, though it was by no means the end of the devious actions the man was revealing. Moreau winced at the demand that turned into a rough grip. She did not want to be dragged into a room when the door was already open. Still trying to pull herself back, a sudden hard blow left an unexpected wake, Mr. Halland's body tumbling down in a near collision with the hotel hallway floor. "Abi." Moreau muttered involuntarily. She was a little surprised. However, tentatively taking a distance as her stepfather seemed to still be e
Something inside Moreau tried to caution. However, passion had grown so wild. This was not the first time. She could feel how much her stepfather wanted to make the same mistake and take things too far. The fingers of Moreau's hand traveled unconsciously to Abihirt's nape. She held the man for a moment longer as a soft bite transformed into something electrifying. Completely surrendered... not for long as Abihirt was in a hurry to remove the black sabrina dress on her body, a knee-length dress that was faintly revealed. This need felt like it had to be fulfilled. Moreau kept her eyes closed as her stepfather's mouth kissed around her breasts. The man has even stripped off her bra of a matching color, to the point of squeezing next to Moreau's breasts so vigorously. The size of the hand was just right and steady. Abihirt really left a burning sensation. "Abi ...." M
"We're done for today, team." Moreau's breath caught in her throat when the coach's voice finally ended the long training session. She jumped down immediately following Juan's loosening grip on her hips. They stared at each other, then compactly skated, skates scraping across the ice, toward Anitta on the sidelines with lines all over the surface. Moreau knew what she was getting into. The expression on Anitta's face was a little more serious than the first time they met after a week ago. She might have noticed something odd, hence Moreau's early reprimands. Really, she was trying to focus, but the image of Abihirt's face and their romance in the hotel room was still a mystery that sprouted ferociously. There was barely a pause and Moreau felt quite tired of being ambushed by feelings of guilt towards her mother, the woman who had clearly gotten herself into mischief, had she not deliberat
"You might not mind telling me a story, Barbara?" "Tell you what?" Something Moreau had never dealt with... was when her stepfather seemed to be offering something, but Barbara was asking questions as if the woman was dealing with ambiguous feelings and had actually been staring at Abihirt with a big question mark on the top of her head, to the point of a confused expression. "About the meeting at the hotel this morning." Woe. Moreau's breath caught in the face of Abihirt's deep, hoarse voice, which had released the grip on her wrist, and was now seriously awaiting an answer from Barbara even though the woman sometimes opened her lips, then closed them again, as if she was afraid-or perhaps thinking of something else. However, Moreau couldn't just keep her head down, while she knew where Abihirt was going; about the conversation with Mr. Halland, which Moreau shouldn't be having. She swallowed harshly d
"Please make a glass of hot tea for Abi... I have to go to my room for a while and will be back soon." Those were Barbara's words a few moments ago. Moreau thought her mother still had the need to explain everything that had unfolded last night. However, it seemed like she had guessed wrong when she found her mother walking while clinging to the arm of Abihirt, a perfectly built man in a navy blue suit. Although there was no denying the cold expression on his face, it was a stark contrast to the woman who pulled out a chair and invited her husband to sit down. "I've made tea for you, Abi. Drink up." There was something odd here. Moreau looked at Barbara a little incredulously. The woman confessed, even the tea Moreau had prepared earlier, the tea in front of Abihirt right now, wa
"I'm already here. So what did you want to talk about?" Moreau's bright blue irises looked seriously into her stepfather's face. They had just sat facing each other with Abihirt not saying anything just to start. Moreau wanted this conversation to continue and finalize the deal in a proper and fitting manner, which would even have to wait a while until the man returned from an important activity. Now only an outstretched arm pulled at the desk drawer. Moreau slowly observed the manner to Abihirt's calm expression as he sorted through the documents. Tentatively the man shifted a few files closer in front of her. She frowned, giving Abihirt a puzzled look, but tried to figure herself out by reading the series of sentences bolded there. Something, anything, that Moreau had never thought of before. There were several points, and they were all about the most
"I should be asking you, Barbara. What are you doing here?" Moreau's tension still lingered around, but there was some relief when her stepfather got up and the man walked closer to sit on the edge of the table-just beside Moreau. Irony. She remained frozen in place as she realized that one of Abihirt's hands was holding the other paper, which was revealed furtively, while the document that should have been there was removed with a swipe of a fingertip until the agreement fell; and slowly slumped on the floor. Moreau could not see exactly where it had landed. Nor did she really intend to find out. She just couldn't pass up the need to stare at something so close. The arm in the man's suit. Well, at least Moreau knew that her stepfather's hand had taken on an additional role; perched on Barbara's hip simply to stop her. Abihirt's position in the center had played a definite role