Good Night, My Precious

In a room in Gregory's mansion,

A twenty-five-year-old woman had just come out of the bathroom. She was already wearing pajamas, while rubbing her long hair with a towel. Meanwhile, a husband and wife in their sixties were still there. They were seen sitting on the sofa that had always been placed in the room and acting as if everything was fine, even though the opposite had happened.

"Have you deleted the call history on Abby's cell phone, My Love?" Vanessa asked.

That blue-eyed woman started speaking in a language that only they could understand. The stocky man nodded. His face looked radiant, but Vanessa could see a grin that was directed at someone who did not know. "Of course I did, honey. I do not want her to get hurt, 'cause the fucking playboy was no good. She deserves a great man," answered Gregory.

“I agree with your idea of their separation, Hubby. She was indeed more moody after marriage. Well, which kind of woman would be feel happy if their own partner mistreated her eve