Abihirt Lincoln woke up to find a young girl wrapped in thick blankets in his bed. He blinked a few times, trying hard to remember the remnants of last night's bet. The bastard Roki had brazenly added stimulant powder to the last cocktail glass—which had to be gulped down—to celebrate the upcoming wedding day.
"Asshole!" Abihirt cursed while rubbing his rough face. This morning was the blessing. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 30 minutes to go, but as the groom-Abihirt had yet to make any preparations. For a moment, the gray eyes scanned the innocent face, which slowly began to frown to avoid the light streaming through the white curtains. Abihirt picked up the cloth scattered around the edge of the bed. Putting his white shirt back on, he raised one eyebrow high when he noticed that the bright blue iris had completely opened and were staring in complete surprise. "Who are you?" Moreau's breath caught. No one would have expected that in front of her a full-grown man—happy, damn handsome with faintly tousled hair—was towering over her. Instinctively, Moreau's fingers tightened, simply squeezing the thick blanket. Overnight .... The image reminded Moreau of one thing. She looked down. Her heart pounded hard as she found her body without a single thread. The suction marks left deep reddish patches that stood out clearly on her chest. It felt like Moreau needed more time to contemplate her fate. She did not know what to say. She was caught between regret and fear. Slowly Moreau's face lifted. The intense eye contact and the way the man looked at her sternly left all sorts of uncomfortable feelings. Suddenly something was thrown in front of her. Moreau tried to understand the situation. A hotel access card. What was a strange man handing over such an object for? "I should go." That was all. So cold that even the width of the footsteps immediately clomped out of the room. Moreau snorted. Finally decided to improve her poor appearance. For a moment she stared intently at the roll of red cloth on her abdomen, which the man had stripped off last night. With tentative movements, Moreau's fingertips unraveled the cloth until it was pulled tight around her body. Today there would be a party. "Oh, my God. Why did I forget?" The last part was to grab the red underwear lying at the foot of the bed. Moreau walked rather hurriedly, completely ignoring the stranger's access card. It was only a one-night stand. The rest they did not want to know each other. The first time she stepped outside, something odd immediately rushed into Moreau's mind. Woe, she had been dealing with a rich man. Not everyone could afford this luxurious hotel in the city center. Moreau subconsciously adjusted her long hair. The wedding party would begin any minute now. Moreau had to dig through her cell phone occasionally to recall the address of the reception hotel. She and her mother did not get along very well. Moreau was sure she had no choice but to include her in the wedding. Someone who needed formality. It made sense why Moreau had the responsibility of being there. She didn't have much more time. *** "Where have you been, Abi? I've been waiting for you." The whole time, Barbara worried about her husband-to-be, who had suddenly disappeared for the night. Abihirt Lincoln only sent a short message; the rest of the time the man was completely immersed as if this wedding day was never going to happen. The calm expression had also left a rumbling feeling. Barbara could hardly believe that just a moment ago she thought this wedding was about to be canceled. "You said your daughter would be at our wedding. Where is she? I haven't met her yet." Instead, Abihirt asked the question calmly, engrossed in fixing the buttons of the suit that clung firmly to his clay body. Barbara smiled faintly, then took a step closer to fix the shirt collar that was interfering with her vision. "Are you in a hurry?" Instead of answering. Something in Abihirt caught Barbara's attention. This man was seven years younger than her, but Barbara never minded. Abihirt had a strong sense of masculinity. She would probably never get that from any man, including one who had been in a serious relationship. "You haven't answered my question." Abihirt was still as coldly staring into Barbara's face. It took specialized knowledge, and Barbara was happy to respond. Moreau didn't really matter. It was better if the girl was not present. Just because of the wasisan, Barbara had no choice; either keep Moreau or live with the wealth that should have been hers. Already living a life of luxury, of course Barbara rejected how she had ever tried so hard to find happiness. "I don't know. Maybe Moreau will arrive soon. That girl is sometimes hard to tell." Chuckling, Barbara then took the action of kissing Abihirt's rough jaw. She needed to stand on tiptoe a little, then rubbed the man's face lovingly. "The blessing is about to begin. We should not discuss anything else here." Barbara gently hugged Abihirt's arm. They had walked to the wedding altar. Guests were already waiting, while the priest with all his readiness was also in the center of the altar. Barbara's smile never disappeared when she faced her future husband. Abihirt's cold face would always be the most beautiful part. She was content to watch Abihirt's hot lips move as the priest spoke while waiting for her turn. In a short time, the sacred vows were recited. The ring that symbolized love was pinned on. Their relationship was official. How happy Barbara was after the long wait. She kissed Abihirt on the lips to loud applause. Meanwhile, just one step closer, Moreau's body suddenly froze at the fact that the man she slept with last night... was the man who married her mother this morning. How could that be? Moreau's heart responded with a loud thud. The shocking feeling made her even more anxious as gray eyes glanced at her sternly. Moreau swallowed roughly. I didn't know what she could do now. Serious urges were asking her to leave. Moreau slowly took a step back. Combing to a quiet place and wondering should she talk about this big problem to her mother? What would Barbara say? Moreau was sure the woman would only scold her harshly.A futile attempt at escape. Moreau's breath caught at the reflection in the mirror. A person with a pale-even completely disheveled-face was trying to compose herself. Moreau didn't know what else she could do after this. When Barbara noticed such a slow arrival at the wedding, her steps immediately left the people around. There was no better place to hide than the hotel bathroom. Moreau was still at a loss as to what to do after accepting the fact that last night's forbidden act had crossed the line. Literally-the incident with the strange man would not have fallen into the most complicated rut. They were not related by blood. He would just be Moreau's stepfather, though there was one important thing... she would feel awkward when they were under the same roof. Moreau was sure she could have become independent, had Barbara given her permission. It was just that she considered Moreau an asset and would not allow her to take one step out of the building left behind by her biolog
"You should get along better with my new husband, Moreau. But you must remember to behave yourself. Don't wear sexy clothes while Abi is home." So early in the morning Barbara had said a series of words, which had not even crossed Moreau's mind. She found it odd to think that since when would Barbara care about how she dressed? Never. Only after she had remarried. All the anticipation was there and the slightest hint of a cornered tone as if Moreau had been prepared, or perhaps Barbara had a hunch? Moreau would make sure that what happened that night. Would never happen again. "Did you hear me, Moreau?" Barbara's question again - the song filled the room, pushing Moreau back to the surface. She blinked, then glanced at her mother's stern face. "I dress openly only when performing on stage or at important tournaments. Even then, it's still within polite and normal levels. The rest of the time, as you've always seen, my clothes are ordinary," Moreau snarled as she pulled the
"I've warned you many times, Abi. Stop consuming alcohol. You know it has unpredictable interactions with medications. Your vitamins will be waiting if you don't show up on time." Roger always had a reason to lecture him with all kinds of sentences that unfolded at times like this. The special check-up schedule, which unfortunately could not be rearranged, despite Abihirt's serious attempts to avoid the doctor and most intimate cousin. He gave Roger a half squint after the man slid a bottle of vitamin capsules and circled the schedule for a blood transfusion. "Come back here next week. Got it, Abi-oh stop playing with my expensive collection!" Roger immediately got up-not that he was going to let Abihirt run his fingertips over his expensive robot series. He quickly slid the glass cabinet shut-carefully-then pocketed the key into his coat pocket. There were various kinds of patients, and they did not dare to just glance, but this one was an exception. "Let me remind you again,
"So, can you explain to me why your family wasn't at the wedding yesterday?" Moreau would not be put off any longer by her curiosity after her accidental encounter with Froy. It was strange to know Abihirt was related by blood to her former lover, but Froy was nowhere to be seen on the wedding day. Now she was beginning to doubt what Abihirt's unrevealed thoughts were. Moreau feared that Abihirt was ultimately a dangerous man, while she and her mother had become involved in a committed relationship with him. Moreau's fingers unconsciously tightened waiting for Abihirt to say something, at least a little, even though the man seemed to be so preoccupied with reading the file she had brought at Barbara's request. How serious... Abihirt's cold face was unbelievably handsome. Moreau swallowed roughly. Trying not to be mesmerized - unwilling to stare at the man's face any longer. She preferred to move her attention around the office. It was a beautiful place. Almost every corner of th
Abihirt soared up from the second floor of a building only to observe a beautiful, slender body with perfect curves... twirling its arms and legs on a slippery layer of ice. The solemn sight would almost never make Abihirt leave her natural brown hair, tied in a ponytail, swaying in various directions with every movement created. Moreau is beautiful to look at from any angle. A natural image of the young leaf's radiance. Occasionally, there was a faint smile as Moreau's bright blue eyes smiled amusedly at the man she was dancing with. Juan Baker began to lift— perhaps—so lightly with such youth that Moreau seemed to have put all her trust into never doubting anything that was about to happen. They looked good together as figure skaters. Dancing like a couple and Abihirt would look away for a moment... at the close-ups of faces. There was no kiss. Just Moreau's hand cupping Juan Baker's face as the corner of Abihirt's eye tried to keep looking. Moreau's smile and laughter in the
"Thank you for your interest in injecting funds into our organization's team, Mr. Lincoln. Many people know you as a successful young entrepreneur, so it would be great if more people would consider sponsoring us in the future." "No need to be shy, Mr. Pablo. My late mother was also a former ice dancer. I'm happy to do it." It was only when Barbara recounted Moreau's busy day and everything on the young girl's personal file. Abihirt was suddenly interested in doing challenging activities. The many stories about his mother's elegance had always intrigued and mesmerized him. There was no denying that Moreau's beautifully curved body had slightly whetted Abihirt's worn-out appetite. Simply getting into something-apparently-wouldn't be enough to give Abihirt leverage. He looked up at Mr. Pablo and accepted the handshake of the man before him. The deal was loaded. The conversation was over. He needed to leave this place after handing over some work in full to his right-hand man. Besides
"Sorry, I'm late." After quite a rush to deal with the tense street traffic. Abihirt took the right position facing each other with Barbara. He observed the sour face that was barely trying to be hidden. It seemed that the woman had waited too long for what he was trying to think. Abihirt understood, and he hoped Barbara should understand that important meetings did take up more time, especially if some unexpected parts came up to fill in the gaps left between serious discussions. Yet, here was Barbara. Abihirt frowned briefly, acting a bit calm and mature in the face of an angry woman. Leaving Barbara waiting alone for almost half an hour might have been the part to handle. Alone. Yes, perhaps that should be underlined as well. Abihirt's gray eyes moved. It was only then that he realized that the whole time he had been walking into the restaurant he had missed something odd between them. The silence was almost devoid of a single patron. Abihirt locked Barbara's face ag
It didn't seem like the right decision to go home alone. Abihirt was barely able to control the steering wheel properly after having to deal with the serious urges that were building up inside him the whole time. His entire chest and throat felt like they were on fire. He had already contacted Roger, sending him Barbara's home address so that he could catch up, or if things didn't go as planned, Roger would arrive first. Abihirt had searched for the fastest way home, the least traveled. But that, too, seemed to be a big mistake. Instead of the darkening skyline accompanying the faint sounds in the air, wild bikers were ungraciously making their presence known. One after another popped up. They were speeding. Then one of the bikers had an absolute collision. Abihirt made a steep slam-his foot pressed against the brake until it jerked violently forward, while the man with the head protector rolled several times onto the asphalt. The dragged motorcycle brutally sparks until it comes to
"So hard, that you'll forget how to be yourself."Her stepfather's statement was spoken without emotion. However, for some reason Moreau felt there was something odd when the man decided not to say anything against the judgment she gave to someone—supposedly her mother's father-in-law. "What does that mean?" she asked slowly. Perhaps there would be another time. Not now, after feeling inappropriate to talk about something irrelevant. Let Abihirt reveal the answer. "Not all heirs will always inherit everything their parents had. I pioneered." That sounded sarcastic, but Moreau didn't expect Abihirt's statement to be directed at her. There was a note of inheritance from Jeremias Riveri—though up until this point Barbara seemed to have no interest in simply urging her to start an important lesson on the need to cultivate a company. Perhaps there was some purpose in her being preoccupied with the various activities of her figure skating career. Against a body
"You closed it down? Wait...who are you? The owner of the mall?"Nor would she be able to hold back any longer. An overreaction that might have amused Abihirt, so much so that there was almost a smile before it was drowned out by a touch on the top of her head. "I am the highest shareholder." Abihirt replied calmly. The man was rich. Moreau understood, but never thought that her stepfather would be willing to sacrifice the most important part of his income just to have some fun; to enjoy the remaining time between them. "How big of a stake do you have to be this influential?" she asked again to make sure something might sound more reasonable. "95%." Damn it, Moreau was stunned for a moment. It wasn't just a share, but there was a trend where Abihirt's position was almost at the line of complete owner of a mall of this size. "You're not afraid of losing your mall profits just because you want to have an affair here?" Not knowing that stat
"You often see me and Juan training and also attending tournaments. There seems to be another reason or do you have an interest here, hence the sponsorship of our activities?" she asked with some form of suspicion. Perhaps it was just curiosity. She was sure it must be someone with a particular interest to be able to do all this. "My mother was a figure skater." There was something strange in Abihirt's deep, raspy voice, but Moreau didn't understand where the correlation between something burdensome the man was feeling and what they had in common—meaning... the woman who had given birth to such a handsome man. "Wouldn't it be great if your mom was a figure skating ex. You can bring me to meet her and I can learn more—" "Do you want to meet her in the grave?" Just like that. Moreau was silent for a moment. She really never meant to or at least not to offend Abihirt. The man didn't say it from the start and made the information seem like a surprise.
"Your skates, Sir...." A servant came to hand over something Abihirt had requested, but his attention was riveted straight on watching Moreau's beautiful form still moving on the ice. The girl was spinning. Moving her legs. Like surfing, but it all looked exactly the same awesome pattern. He remembered how he always played a video of his mother doing something similar. There was almost a resemblance. The only difference was that Moreau knew how to rebel, while there was the desperate variety of a woman who decided to end her life after facing the attitude of a cowardly husband—even as a father... the old bastard was irresponsible. Abihirt did not want to remember all the events that were listed as part of the worst of his life. A moment to turn his attention to the man who was still waiting for an answer. "Just put it down." Just a short order; done immediately, then the man walked backwards. At first there was no intention of just being here. H
Moreau walked first. Deliberately widening her stride with a steady pace, but that did not deny that Abihirt would stop whatever she was doing. The man's touch on her wrist was a testament, then a tug left her stuck against the wall. "You're angry." Abihirt's deep, raspy voice sounded almost like a whisper, filled with labored breathing when their faces were so close. Moreau swallowed roughly. Wishing she could forget some things, she deliberately turned her face away from looking directly into her stepfather's eyes. There was nothing to talk about for now. It would be useless if they tried to just build something that wasn't. "I know you're angry. Your mother used to act like this too." Abihirt spoke again, but Moreau was a little incredulous that the man would bring Barbara into the conversation. There was no correlation between her, who was trying to seem okay, trying not to explode at any significant time, and her mother who probably had some quirks and
Abihirt seemed to have something to talk about, but they understood the moments where not to make even the slightest noise, though the man's excited breathing was still enough to leave an impression and Moreau did not want to get bogged down for too long. She probably needed to start things off by slightly avoiding anything that would make the situation feel complicated. They didn't deserve to hold hands. Nothing could describe the specifics of how they should behave, other than the full knowledge of something that could hardly be called a date with her mother's husband. How bitter. Moreau almost grinned sarcastically, then she hid her hand between the crack of her tightly clasped legs. Abihirt wouldn't be able to do anything more than insist that they start things without talking first. At the very least, she wanted to know what was holding her stepfather back for so long that he could barely be here. Office work? The business with Froy? Or perhaps Barbara had come to h
It had been more than an hour since the movie had started. Moreau had no idea where Abihirt had gone, but the man never arrived at the place they had promised. She had even sent several messages, including the barcode of the movie ticket and none of them could imply the prospect that Abihirt would read it. Perhaps the man had never really intended to, had deliberately left Moreau waiting and ended up sitting almost alone here. It was necessary to underline the existence of the others—the audience who were enjoying the storyline. However, it was not the same as someone having said they would be present, even if they were not. Abihirt had a desire not to give Juan a chance. With irony, it made Moreau feel half annoyed. She had been desperately holding back by not agreeing to Juan's request—when the offer of a movie night was made again, while they knew Abihirt was making her hopes dashed. The man's purpose was uncertain, like a puzzle and Moreau had to swallow forcibly.
"Sorry to trouble you, Caroline." Moreau had an uneasy feeling when she reached the kitchen, only to find that Caroline had finished almost all the work. She only had to wait for the dough that was still being fried in hot oil to cook. It wouldn't take much longer. The golden brown color had already begun to surface. There was also a melt that became a memorable part of the bowl and did not go unnoticed. "This is my duty, Miss. After all, Master asked for it directly. But I didn't see him. Didn't he leave with you earlier on important business?" "Who said that?" asked Moreau instinctively, almost unconsciously raising one high eyebrow while looking at Caroline's distorted face. "Just guessing when he asked me to keep the ballpoint pen he used.” The woman added a nervous smile, between the fear of misspeaking. However, Moreau would understand her. She shook her head vaguely—determined not to leave an odd impression on Caroline. "I just went to my r
Engulfed in a rough exhale, Moreau stared into Abihirt's gray eyes while keeping something dangling from the top of her head. Little did she realize that the man's chest was also heaving. This was about the matter and they were dealing with it, so she felt she had the right to ask her stepfather directly. "Did you also do something this rude to my mother?" Not knowing whether it was a fatal mistake or not. Moreau was willing to take the risk. Letting the silence take root for a while was like studying the situation between them, but slowly the man shook his head vaguely; giving Moreau a hint that she was facing the worst prospect. "Then why did you do such a rude thing to me?" she asked, almost bitterly. Still about the forbidden agreement. Perhaps this was the space where she should learn irony. "Don't you want it too?" Abihirt's deep, raspy voice sounded like he was making sure. Moreau blinked briefly. What could be said? There were serious repercussio