Semua Bab CEO's Only Wife: Bab 101 - Bab 110

It's not too difficult to find out where the bartender lives, just wait for the patrons to come to the bar and wave a few large denomination US dollars. All residents of old countries understand the value of the dollar. American money represents American life, an opportunity to pursue the future you deserve rather than be manipulated. It's a future worth looting, killing, and selling souls for. Eric couldn't help but sneer at how easy it was to find the girl. He told her not to let him find him, and he was serious when he said that. Again, she refused to listen. Instead, Eric succeeded in defining his goal. A sense of victory welled up in him. But there's something else. Inconsistency. It's always a contradiction when it comes to her. What will he do when he sees her? Beating? Screaming? Slapping her butt until she bursts into tears and begs for mercy, or will covering her with kisses end the same way? With her he never knew, not until the moment took over him, controlling him. Eric

She handed me a pair of cropped jeans and a tight leather jacket with a criss-cross strap fastened to the front. I can't stop myself from frowning at the whore-looking clothes. Suddenly my chest received a direct hit and a small pile of junk food fell to my feet. I gritted my teeth. And she replied with a scornful smile. The devil. I picked up the bag of chips and two protein bars. Yes, I will definitely repay her for this "delicious" food. She continued to maintain a balanced expression as she kicked more clothes into the corner of the room. “What, are you going to stand there or are you going to sit down and eat?” I looked at her skeptically. Then many very loud voices came from the other room. “Are you crazy about it?!?” More voices rang out. “Bringing that ferret here was a mistake, man.” someone said. “My God, Tiny, you should send her back while you still can,” said another. “Since when did you become a slut?” Ty Hon said. "What's up?" Nancy shot a dagger-like look at me

Blood. Lots of blood. It mixed with the thick dust on the ground, forming a mixture inside the boy's mouth. He cried. He had never been hit so hard. Above him, the strange man continued to scream, but he didn't understand. The words flowed out too quickly for him to put them together, but otherwise, he would never have heard the language before. He wants to go home. The boy closed his eyes and in a second he was there. To be pulled into his mother's arms and kissed on the neck by her, making him chuckle. He was her "Handsome Little Man". His little legs thrashed as he burst out laughing, but his mother held him so tight she wouldn't let him fall. Tears burned his eyes. Everything is burning. “Sukat!” said the man. The boy knew that word, he always used it when he cried or screamed. The boy forced himself to be silent, trying to breathe through his nose and swallowing all the blood that flowed back into his throat. He is no longer hungry. His stomach is already full of blood. Hunger

Narweh's English consists of simple words and phrases – yes, no, sleep, come, and sex. His primary form of communication was to beat the boys with sticks until he understood, though he sometimes did worse than that. There were things that went on and on, things that Kéleb forced himself not to think about. Every time he obeyed, he would be rewarded with food, clothes, or gifts from various men, and although he abhorred what he did to receive such rewards, he did his best to suffer. Whenever he resisted, the blows would be so brutal that even a grown man could not stand it. Finally, after many years, Kéleb also grew up, tall and beautiful. Along with that, arrogance and quick-wittedness soon followed. He was more fluent in Arabic than in English, though the English boys helped him retain his basic knowledge. He soon chooses his own tormentors, pitting them against each other with the promise of true affection, even though he is incapable of giving it away. Still a child in the eyes o

Eric watched the boy. Kid. The name is very catchy. His face was as smooth as a child's, his lips a little too full, like his own. Something evil took root within him. He'll let this guy live, and the blonde. Soon, though, they'll wish he hadn't. Eric finally looked at Kitten. Her face was bruised and stained with blood. Her eyes were closed but her lips were still moving, shaking violently like the rest of her body. Her head tilted to the left, her arms stretched out over Kid's. A little below, her outstretched legs were streaked with bruises and boot marks in places that had clearly been stepped on. Eric swallowed. “Khalid,” his voice was even, “put a blanket over the girl. She is in shock. Then bring these two to me.” When Eric turned, Dani was standing with Khalid in the foyer. Two men entered as Eric left, and yet he heard the blonde resist them. Eric allowed old memories to flood back as he strode toward the living room, mingling with the image of Kitten bruised and shivering o