"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 rIt 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.
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
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
"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
"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.
"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
"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
"One more shot." Moreau had been dealing with bad press all day. Her ex-boyfriend had unilaterally made the choice to end their relationship. She had been asking for a definitive reason since that sad moment, but Froy and the man's angry gaze were clearly refusing to talk. What an irony. Tomorrow was her mother's wedding day, and Moreau had no idea what the groom looked like. They were not introduced. Her mother was planning a silent necessity. There was even so much other pressure to leave serious blotches that it felt like they were punching holes in Moreau's heart. She was almost desperate to figure things out. Moments ago, she decided to go to a bar with the intention of calming down. The striking red dress was perfect on Moreau's slim body. Apparently, in front of the bar counter, Moreau was sitting alone. Staring at a few empty glasses—the wine was gone. Thus, her throat was like ashes with the remains of a fire. It was completely barren. Moreau never thought that she would ge
"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