The cold war between Consuela and Richie lasted for a long time. And it continued for the rest of the
time. As long as they stayed in the same room, the two of them seemed to be releasing low pressure
just for the game.
Those who didn't know the truth would think that they had dug each other's graves so they tortured
each other so desperately.
But if they knew the truth they could do nothing but shake head and sigh.
However, the onlookers didn't see anything wrong of them.
Of course, it just seemed.
And in this cold air, the first person to surrender was Richie.
"What are you doing? !"
Consuela was deadly pressed in the clothes pile on the big bed that could not be touched. Her face
was strained for a long time, and there were cracks all over it.
She tried her best to control her body trembling. Her eyes were full of panic when she looked at the
man who suddenly appeared unexpectedly in front of her. Her hands curled up in front of her chest,
and subconsciously struggled with her hands holding the hem of her clothes.
He grabbed her waist and pressed her against him to stop her struggling with one hand. Then he
pinched her delicate chin with the other. As if ice and frost covered his whole body. He said in a cold
voice, "what are you doing? Well, I should ask you! "
"I just want to pack my clothes..." She gently moved her hand and head, but in return, but as a result
she was tightened more intensely.
Knowing that Richie wouldn't let go of her, she frowned and shifted her gaze away from him. Not
wanting to see his long face, she explained in a low voice.
However, the insincere explanation and her purposeful little moves made the man's anger increase. He
gripped her chin more tightly and said angrily, "pack up? Consuela, do you think I can't feel anything? "
Even if she had showed him her long face for so long, he would not mind.
However, the woman under his body behaved abnormally and had been pushing his bottom line over
and over again. And now she was directly packing up her things!
There was a bottom line to petty temper, wasn't there?
Consuela's eyes drifted down to Richie's face. She had a close look at the delicate handsome face of
the man. Her heart hurt even more, for the question he just roared at her.
Looking at him in this way, this was her response of fighting back. And this was the only thing she could
do.
For this marriage, just like a tree rooted in deformity, how could it be possible for a normal flower and a
sweet fruit?
Her heart, which had been depressed for many days, gradually began to be wet.
His eyes were filled with indifference, alienation, resistance... They were so complex that she couldn't
found any regret or tenderness in them.
His face was as dark as ink.
"Consuela," The man asked in a low but elegant voice, hoarse with haze.
Richie's deep eyes were like a knife, which could pierce through her heart. He lowered his head, buried
his face in her neck and sighed.
"You deserve it..." His patience seemed to be run out.
The gorgeous and charming bass slowly drifted away, and then Consuela's big eyes widened gradually.
...
She blinked her eyes and held back the tears that were about to spill over her eyes.
And on her little fair face, there was nothing else except a touch of rosy that he could not control.
The clothes on her body were peeled off one by one, and the bed which was too big to touch the edge
was slowly in a mess.
Taking off the last cover on his body, Richie looked at himself with his arms crossed. Even though he
was deeply involved in love, he was unwilling to look at the stubborn woman with no expression on her
face. His scattered fingers clenched silently.
With these thoughts in his mind, Richie slowly loosened his grip on her arms and looked at her
affectionately. He wanted to kiss her hard on the lips right now.
"Hum."
Consuela couldn't help but snort shyly as she met his gaze. Meanwhile, she stole a glance at him.
After a glance, she immediately moved away her sight.
As if she had seen something dirty.
Such a movement made the last trace of tolerance in Richie's heart collapse.
He shifted his gaze from Consuela, and focused all his attention on her flawless arm.
What happened next, messy, mixed up...
She was tossed and turned like a salted fish in an oil pot. Her skin was fair and smooth, but after a brief
moment, she was like in a painting from sketching to oil painting.
Consuela casually pulled a piece of clothes that had been pushed to the edge of the bed because of
the bumps of the two people, wrapped her body in a wisp, and did not look at the man sitting on the
head of the bed smoking a cigar, then walked into the bathroom slowly and difficultly with the dim
yellow bedside lamp.
Click.
The wooden door was opened and closed, separating the two people who were just physically close.
The patter of water slowly sounded up, but there was no shadow on the frosted glass.
Taking out the cigar in his mouth, Richie's face, which had been slightly relieved by the previous
events, became dark again.
Thanks to the bad sound insulation effect of the bathroom, otherwise, he would never know that she
hated his touch to such an extent!
He stared at the bathroom door as if it was his enemy. In the silence of the bedroom, his heart tightly
tangled into a group because of the depression and slightly twitching cry coming out from the bathroom
from time to time.
He didn't know why Consuela had become so angry with him. He didn't know why all of a sudden it was
like this. He only knew that he didn't want to hear or see the woman crying in the bathroom!
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