"My mom is gone, Abi. You... come out-" The end of Moreau's sentence floated to the tip of her throat. Something was missing. She was surprised to find no one around. She tried to look around the room to make sure she would find her stepfather. But the room that had just been left an inch away was completely devoid of visitors. Moreau's eyebrows raised high, she walked towards the bathroom. Thinking it was the most likely hiding place. Only to find a silent, empty, damp room, and finally pull the door shut again. Moreau unconsciously wiped the remaining hairs behind her ears. Walking... almost wanting to forget where her stepfather had gone. However, the man surprisingly appeared as a dangerous incarnation. Moreau's first reaction was to show caution, but she was grateful that Abihirt was fully clothed. There was no longer a clay chest, wh
It was surprising. Something Moreau had never thought about. She widened her eyelids to dismiss Abihirt's arm that was pressed very close to her face. Being a mistress was not something that had ever entered her list. Moreau never remembered that she would write something on a note, about various sad decisions. Wishing there had never been such events involved in any episode of her life. Abihirt had gone too far. It was wrong to want to involve illicit acts between them. It was not appropriate. Moreau would never justify just because they had a one-night stand. Something done accidentally, she would always consider it an accident. Not anymore. Not here, if, that is, Abihirt intended to use their photos as an absolute threat. Moreau was ready to argue, and made sure she had every possible way to deny. "You're not crazy, Abi." Moreau's voice had a firm ton
"What's wrong with asking me to come to your office?" The smile on the corner of Barbara's lips instantly responded seriously. After several messages, she finally found Abihirt looming and stepped closer to the desk. Barbara immediately left work to greet her husband. She got up, embraced Abihirt's body, inhaled the intoxicating scent of his body, and made sure that the curves on her face did not quickly disappear. Only when a little distance was taken did Barbara step back to the work chair. "Sit down, Darling. I'm sorry about last night. But can you tell me where you slept after leaving home? Because I called Roki and he said you didn't go to his residence at all." That sounded like an insult. Barbara understood and perhaps she was overreacting when Abihirt himself was so calmly observing her face. The man's fingertips tapped on the surfa
"What kind of mature man do you mean?" Instead of getting an answer right away. Moreau was ambushed by Juan's questions. The man was too critical to understand something they were talking about. "A mature man who is married. Anyway." Moreau added a small detail in hope; not wanting Juan to guess the odd, hollow phrase the man was dealing with. It would be too close, she was afraid Juan would smell something she was trying to hide. A secret. For now they could not open up to each other. Moreau was still staring at the man beside her until the air rushed roughly from between Juan's lips. The man shrugged, then placed the water bottle on a layer of ice. Finished training. Perhaps after this they would go home soon. Moreau did not want to, at least for the next day or two, indulge Juan's invitation to leave. It was enough that they met Abihirt at the racing venue unexpectedly. Fortunately Abihirt didn't say anything to Barbara.
"Is Abi not home yet?" Moreau almost gasped, and at the same time tried to control herself from Barbara's appearance in the backyard. She was enjoying the moment soaking her feet in the pool of water, having absolutely no clue that the woman would suddenly appear looking for someone. Barbara's eyeballs darted around. Finding no one, the only thing left behind was a rough exhale. In the next moment Moreau knew immediately that Barbara was taking steps, pacing for one glaring reason. Worry was in the air, perhaps a way of simply urging calm to play a brief role. "I haven't seen him for a while." Couldn't stand it. Moreau added slowly to keep Barbara from overreacting. The woman's appearance was still too complete. The tote bag was linked in the hand. The work blazer and heels worn almost all day were still there. Even the l
It was horrible to have to observe Barbara all the time occupied on the monitor. The woman's fingers moved over the keyboard without the slightest intention of abandoning whatever she was doing. Moreau did not understand her mother's thinking. She had forbidden her to be involved in the office; anything, for the company that was, at the moment, being run by her late father's right-hand man for a predetermined period of time. For Moreau, Barbara's attitude here was revealed to be quite excessive as a business owner. In fact, she harbors an odd sense of something pointed. Yes, something about a will had been written long before Jeremias Riveri breathed his last: With her as the sole heir; Moreau would continue the family company at the age of 28. However, it seemed too improbable after what Barbara had controlled through Jeremias Riveri's permission back then. Instead, Moreau was required to take dance lessons as a child.
"There is no need to do so, Moreau. I'm not hungry." Moreau's body jerked, so surprised was she to find her stepfather suddenly looming an inch away from the bar. The man was still in the white shirt that was revealed to be sexy and fitted, while this time the gray suit was hanging on the bent arms, looking so solid that Moreau struggled to choose the best words to judge. But... she really wasn't going to say anything outright. Abihirt seemed to be holding something back and Moreau felt sorry for him. She wasn't thinking about the offer the man had made, but felt sorry for how Abihirt had to be more patient with her mother. She wasn't sure she wanted to let the man go, now, after the shocking, perhaps even devastating, events of this afternoon. Abihirt was unlikely to ask Barbara for help if the man was doing well. Moreau pursed her lips subconsciously realizing that soon her stepfather would be leaving the kitchen. "Did the accident this afternoon make your shoulder hurt?" She
"Alright, where's your injured shoulder?" The corner of Abihirt's lips twitched slightly, whether it was satisfaction or a habit Moreau had never known. She swallowed harshly at how her stepfather's arm reached out to simply grab the coat on the bed, then reached for something there. The situation spiraled out of control as the man undid one button after another on the white shirt, then stripped the work clothes off to clutch them in the palm of his hand. Moreau is still unable to say anything as she watches Abihirt half-naked with muscles bulging in the abdomen, the biceps on the man's arms looking solid, even the butt that looks solid and sexy finally sticking to the edge of the bed. How horrible it would be if Moreau was lulled by the slim hips, especially at the vestiges of bluish veins creeping up, hiding in one place under the man's work pants. She had to remember who the man she was observing was.