My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna)

Too many things had happened that day. I went to the study room and read the headlines on the Internet. As expected, all the clips featuring Valerie that were shown at the hotel tonight had been disseminated. To my surprise, the Moore Family, who obviously had the ability to keep this matter suppressed, didn't seem to bother interfering with it - just as Austin had mentioned.

Even Valerie didn't make any moves, as if she intended to tolerate my actions.

Initially, I wanted to call lan but felt that it was getting late, so I gave up on the idea. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I sat in the study room for a while, and when I returned to the bedroom, Hendrix hadn't come out of the bathroom yet.

Hendrix's bath usually took ten minutes or so. I had been in the study room for quite a while, so he should have been out already.

Concerned that something might have happened to him, I quickly made my way towards the bathroom door. I raised my hand and knocked. "Hendrix, are you there?" I asked. No one responded.

Anxiety kicked in as I stretched my hand out to twist the doorknob. I had thought that the door would be locked from the inside, but to my surprise, I was able to open it.

I cracked the door open, and the bathroom was filled with hot and humid air. I called out to him, "Hendrix..."

As soon as I finished speaking, that man's strong underbelly suddenly appeared. I looked up subconsciously and saw his sexy abdominal muscles.

his hand, it seemed that he also

startled and embarrassed. "Have you

a shower; he looked extraordinarily handsome with his hair damp and warm shower mist enveloping his

out of the bathroom. The lower part of his body was wrapped in a bath towel as he dried the

carried himself

What a pro!

had a lot of makeup on today, I entered the

machine in the bathroom, and I threw my clothes in. As Hendrix's suit was

basket then caught my eye. It was the briefs that

up and washed it in the sink. He would usually wash most of his undergarments. Since his other clothes were custom-made, they were sent to the dry-cleaners. Occasionally, some

about how even after being married for three years, I never helped him wash his clothes. I also thought about how apart from matters related to Andrea, he seemed to listen to

wandered off, he opened the bathroom door and saw his blue briefs in my hand. Hesitation appeared

I saw that it was still

and obscure eyes without saying much. He

in my hands. Then,

how to react or