Reason tells him that he should not turn his head and walk away now, but his feet cannot move.
Dallas turned around, his gaze firmly fixed on her face, not looking at the mottled spots on her body.
Her eyes seem to always have a smile, easily mistaken for tenderness.
Averi said, "Fiona doesn't know when she will regain consciousness. She needs more professional care, and a private nursing home would be more suitable for her than a hospital ward."
Dallas looked at her and suddenly felt a little amused. She didn't force him from beginning to end, just throwing out conditions and letting him make his own choices, but he had no other choice at all.
"And what are the terms?"
If you ask that, then you agree.
The woman pursed her lips, seeming to be thinking something. After a while, she asked, "What were you thinking when Beatrice hit you?"
"What?" What? "He was confused by her.
"At the end of last year, in H City, she scratched your face at a charity auction organized by the L Association. What were you thinking at that time?"
She was also there that day.
I didn't think much. "Dallas didn't understand the significance of this question.
Averi stared at him for two seconds and asked with great interest, "Do you look down on her?"
The man furrowed his brow quickly, neither admitting nor denying.
But she was unusually persistent about the question, 'Why, because she's a venomous bug?'
Dallas said, "No."
She relentlessly pursued, "Then why?"
Dallas paused for a moment and finally said, "Because she has other options."
On his missions, he'd seen plenty of addicts—women, even children. They were controlled by gangs, pimps, sometimes even their own families, hooked on drugs so badly they'd do anything for a single hit.
In terms of corruption, these people are even more corrupt than Beatrice and no longer live like individuals. But he only despised Beatrice, who had many choices but chose to use emptiness as an excuse to take drugs.
Dallaswen asked, "That's your condition? Just answering one question?"
Averi couldn't help but laugh and said, "Dallas, you're overestimating yourself."
It was clearly a mocking remark, but when it came out of her mouth, it seemed like there was no malicious intent at all.
But how could she not have any malice.
Dallas was annoyed by his dementia and asked coldly, "So what are the conditions?"
Averi pretended to think for a moment and said, "I haven't figured it out yet. Tomorrow, I will arrange for someone to help Fiona handle the transfer procedures. As for the conditions, I'll talk about them later. Dallas, I still have work to deal with here, so I won't send it." After finishing speaking, he sat down and picked up a document to start flipping through, treating it as if it were nothing.
At first, there was indeed a deliberate element involved, but her attention was quickly drawn to the document, and all her thoughts were focused on it. She didn't even hear the sound of him leaving.
When I come to my senses again, it's already past nine o'clock in the evening.
Looking down, the semen on my body was completely dry, sticking to my shirt and wrinkled, no different from a cloth.
Averi is both angry and funny. As the money giver, she didn't get angry when she was shot in the face, but he didn't show any pleading.
She took off her shirt, threw it in the trash, and walked straight into the shower in the adjacent lounge.
During the wait for hot water, I reached out and touched my leg, leaving my hand half dry and sticky.
It's indeed wet.
She's not that hungry, she wouldn't watch a man masturbate wet like this. Rather than sexual desire, it is more accurate to say that he successfully aroused her desire for conquest.
Power is indeed the best aphrodisiac. For men, it's the same for women.
Averi licked his lips, then extended his right hand between his legs and gently rubbed his clitoris with his fingers.
"Mmm."
Her body was unbearably sensitive, and it didn't take much before she climaxed.
The lewd water is directly washed away by hot water without leaving any trace.
*
Averi said he didn't come up with a plan, it's true he didn't come up with a plan. The proposal was just a whim.
Fiona's medical expenses are just a small sum of money for her, keeping people under her nose is the safest option. Even if Fiona wakes up one day, she can handle it as soon as possible.
Moreover, just because Milo can have five, six, seven, or eight girlfriends doesn't mean she can too. She is not so optimistic about men's open mindedness.
Cristopher has attached great importance to her in the past two years. She dare not say whether this is due to her abilities or her relationship with Milo.
A few days later, the renovation project of J City Industrial Park was finally approved, and Forbes successfully signed a contract with the municipal government. Averi was so engrossed in his work that he almost forgot about Dallas.
The city attaches great importance to this project, and before it even started, the Secretary of the Municipal Party Committee came to inspect it twice on site. No wonder, if done well, this would be a remarkable achievement.
The renovation of old buildings is complex and involves dealing with many departments. As the project leader appointed by Cristopherqin, in addition to daily work, Averi also has to show his face at reception occasions from time to time.
If you play with fire, you're bound to get burned.
Someone took a few drinks and put their hand on her leg.
"I heard Miss Forbes graduated from H University at just 21! No wonder Old Mr. Forbesholds you in such high regard, handing you such a big project. And, well, you're stunning enough to live off your looks alone."
Jordan's face darkened instantly.
Feigning the need to pour more tea, Averi subtly brushed off the man's hand.
Sensing the tension, Jordan quickly brought her phone to Averi's ear, pretending there was an urgent document in need of her signature, giving them both an excuse to leave.
Once they were in the car, Jordan ground her teeth in frustration. "That made me so mad, boss! Is he crazy? A deputy director daring to—!"
Averi remained calm. "A deputy director has plenty of ways to make things hard for us."
Jordan understood but couldn't quite let it go.
Wasn't money supposed to make life easy? So why did it seem like Averi's life was a hundred times harder than her own?
While they waited at a red light, Jordan suddenly remembered something and handed Averi two hefty brown envelopes.
"What's this?"
"Money from Dallas."
"What money?"
Averi opened one envelope, and a neatly stacked wad of bills slipped onto her lap. Deep in the bag were four more bundles—ten thousand each, totaling fifty thousand.
Jordan refreshed her memory. "One of them was from Dallas last month. He left it with the reception for you. They didn't know what to do with it, so they gave it to me. You told me to send it back."
Averi recalled. Yes, that did happen.
She'd been overwhelmed at the time, too busy to bother with a few tens of thousands. The project team had submitted data that was outdated in several spots—whether by negligence or design, she couldn't tell.
"I called Dallas to tell him to come pick it up, but he refused. He said—"
What else could he say? Just some cliched declarations about "unwavering devotion."
It seemed bodyguard work paid well. He must've put every penny he earned into this if he could manage ten grand in two months.
Averi almost wondered if he was a masochist, she'd never seen anyone so eager to pay back money.
Casually, she said, "You've been with me for years. Since when does anything make you so hesitant? Come on, did he curse me out?"
"No, no," Jordan quickly denied. "Dallas said his sister isn't a beggar, and he wouldn't let her become one."
To be honest, Jordan had been a little moved when she first heard it. But everyone was so busy back then that she'd forgotten all about it.
Until today, when she returned to the office and Alex Richmond from reception handed her another identical envelope, she remembered.
"Today, the front desk delivered a second envelope, and I remembered. I tried calling Dallas, but he didn't pick up… I'm sorry, boss. I messed up. I'll make sure to send it back tomorrow."
Feeling guilty, Jordan glanced at Averi through the rearview mirror.
The woman in the backseat leaned against the seat, her face obscured in shadow, revealing no expression.
After a moment, Averi said, "Forget it. Keep it."
Why refuse money that came right to her?
Outside, a movie trailer played on the shopping center's big screen. Military rescue theme, the lead had rugged features, and the action scenes looked decent.
She glanced at it, and an image of sharp, intense eyes, filled with both desire and anger, crossed her mind.
Would he put his hand on a woman's thigh when he was drunk?
The thought made her want to laugh, rekindling a spark of forgotten excitement.
He probably didn't realize that if he weren't so insistent on repaying her, or if he showed even a hint of groveling, she might've let him off the hook.
"Jordan, send me Dallas's phone number."
"Oh, sure." Jordan had a contact book on her phone for numbers. She searched Dallas's name and forwarded the number to Averi.
Averi didn't save it. She copied it directly into a message and typed words: "Averi."
Her phone vibrated almost immediately: "What do you want?"
Averi chuckled softly and put her phone away.
That's some big talk!
Then she'd be unreserved.
