Richie's heart skipped a beat as he saw the miserable Consuela, who had huddled herself up. There
was no denying that the cold and hard businessman's heart skipped a beat.
Perhaps he just thought that his wife shouldn't be so embarrassed.
Holding his forehead, Richie put on a light smile. Even he himself could not believe what he just had
heard.
When he went back to the ward, he saw that the transparent liquid was dripped into her blood vessels.
Her face went deathly pale.
His cell phone rang in his pocket all of a sudden. He hurriedly pressed the mute button and walked to
the balcony brought by the ward itself. He picked it up, but his eyes fell on the person who was in a
coma.
As soon as the line was connected, Tim didn't know what Richie was thinking about. He thought of one
thing and asked, "Boss, are you sure to talk about the case of Wang Group?"
'How dare they try to raise the price and demand other profits?
"You don't deserve them. Just sign that batch of military supplies," said Richie with a sneer.
In other words, he didn't care about anything else and just let them demand an exorbitant price.
"Yes, I'll be fully responsible for the following things." Tim made a heartfelt sigh.
He sensed that there was something wrong with Richie.
When Consuela woke up, it was almost midnight. There was a night lamp on in the ward. In the dim
light, she could see the man with a pair of long hands and feet.
He was sitting on the sofa, frowning. With his eyes closed, he seemed to have fallen asleep. The
indifference all over his body was like a living fridge.
'He's a man of self-esteem, ' she thought.
It was Richie who sent her to the hospital. The sun should have come out of the bathroom.
Her lips trembled, and her eyes softened, as if someone was rubbing a handful of warm sunshine.
The infusion bottle above her hand was almost finished. She sat up and wanted to pull the needle out,
but out of the corner of her eyes, she saw that man sitting on the sofa was moving his body slightly.
"Why didn't you cry to death?" The man approached her, laughing sarcastically and showing no mercy
to her.
His tongue soaked in formalin water for a long time tore up the original warm atmosphere thoroughly.
Anyway, it was he who sent her here. She lowered her head and said, "Thank you."
Richie said gloomily, "You're welcome. If you die, I'll have to spend time to force others to marry me
and stop others from gossiping about me."
Enraged, Consuela burst into laughter. She raised her head and said, "You're right. Thank you for
taking care of me."
All of a sudden, the atmosphere became active, provoked by these words.
The transparent plastic tube sucked her blood back into the bag. At the same time, Richie pressed the
call bell in a hurry. A specific nurse soon came to the ward.
The infusion stopped. As she reached out to touch her belly, she suddenly remembered something.
She looked at the man who was sending an email on his phone in shock.
After a long while, she said calmly, "I usually pay attention to health. The doctor should have checked
me up. Is there any explanation?"
Richie looked up and replied with a forced smile, "You passed out because you were so shocked." After
a short pause, he continued, "You got angry because of something."
Consuela didn't answer him. She had asked him to have a check-up on him just now, to make sure that
he hadn't found the baby yet.
because it was not a trifle.
Before she was able to stretch her long breath, the man on the sofa put down his mobile phone,
crossed his legs, and slightly leaned back. His laziness and nobility seemed to be natural.
"I forgot to tell you, the doctor told you to be careful in the future, and don't be too emotional. The baby
hasn't passed the dangerous period. You have to be responsible for it."
These simple words made her pale and morbid. She raised her head and looked at Richie in the eye.
It turned out that he had already known everything, pretending to ignore her temptation, so as to give a
heavy blow when she relaxed.
Consuela roared, biting her lips. Fury could be seen in her eyes.
But she might be able to make a deal with him with the child.
Enduring the sharp pain in her heart, she put down her hands which were on her lower abdomen, and
smiled.
"Don't you just want a child when you marry me? I will give you the child, custody and so on. Forget
about the marriage, " she discussed with him and gave him a cold-blooded suggestion.
The man's face fell. She was wondering what had provoked him.
"There are so many women out there who want to have a baby for me. Why should I support yours?"
Consuela's face was as pale as a sheet. Then it turned red as a tomato when she heard Richie's
words.
Indeed, he was a piece of gold-plated meat that many women wanted. They wanted to sleep with him
and give birth to a group of inheritors for his family property.
"You are right. A person like me doesn't deserve you. I'm barely willing to get married." She rolled her
eyes at him.
From the view of this, they seemed to talk to a pinhole doll with an established program.
His eyes locked on her. Every move of her seemed to remind him of something. He said with a cold
smile, "You don't know what I want."
Consuela thought that she had already decided to accept the fate of being Richie's wife. However, to
her surprise, she had been resisting in fact. She even had not given up hope.
No matter it was resistance or other skills, he didn't like it. He looked at her with a deep and dark eye.
Like the wild animals in the boundless forest, they had become interested in their favorite prey, and the
endless pursuit was about to begin.
He bent down and put his arms around her. "You can't run away, your child or yourself," he said with a
vicious smile.
It was she who started it. This was her fault and she had to bear the consequences.
"Is this the only way to revenge?" unable to bear the burning fury in his eyes, Consuela asked stiffly,
tilting her head.
Her heart was beating irregularly because of the intimate distance between them, and was strong
enough to jump out in the next second.
"The most painful revenge is to bind a person up and break her wings, isn't it?"
There had always been a way that the winged birds would commit suicide.
The man's voice was a low coldness that was not diluted by the night, accompanied by a few chuckles,
and warm air sprayed in her earlobes.
Her face was as pale as a ghost. Being treated like this didn't feel good.
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