In My Desperate Time

Chapter 110 Guilty of the Crime

Then I take out the black card, which Frances Louis gave me, and hand it to the boss.

“Use this card.”

I don’t want to spend Frances Louis’s money. But under today's circumstances, I can only use his money. Although I feel uncomfortable, at least, it solves the emergency.

As soon as the boss sees the black card, he immediately changes his attitude and says to me obsequiously, “This lady is really interesting. You could have said it earlier that you have money, then we don’t have to bother the policemen.”

He takes the black card, swipes it quickly, then smiles to the policeman, “Sorry sir, this is a misunderstanding, sorry to bother you.”

The policemen see that the matter is settled, they purse their lips and get out of the store.

“She is an mere designer. How could you get a black card? How dare you say you're upright and honest?” Nicole Snow glances down at the black card in my hand, her face is resentful.

Whitney Jordan's eyes fall on the black card, too, and her expression changed slightly.

Knowing the show is over, Nicole Snow takes Whitney Jordan and leaves. This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

Nora comes over, she says to me still fearfully, “You scared me to death. I thought you can’t afford it and would to be arrested.”

I smile at her, looking around the store, and ask, “Do you have another similar vase?”

I have already spent a lot of money anyway. I wouldn't mind spending a little more.

“You really have a crush on this vase. You're lucky. There is still one left.”

Nora gives me a vase. I take a look, and it looks the same as the broken one.

I take the vase home, all way carefully. I am afraid to break it again. I've had a really bad day.

Luckily, Frances Louis is not back yet.

I carefully place the vase on the TV stand, and ask Betty, “Do you think this vase looks like the one before?”

“Pretty much the same.” Betty nods with satisfaction, and I am relieved.

Frances Louis, who is not usually at home, probably forgets what the vase looks like.

Betty is busy cooking, and after I deal with the cut on my face, I go to the kitchen to help. The main reason to help with cooking is that the food would not be too bad to eat.

As soon as the dinner is ready, Frances Louis returns.

He comes home early today. Luckily, I got back before he did.

“You are back. Let’s have dinner.”

I say to him, untying my apron.

“I've had my dinner. Have the dinner yourselves.” Frances Louis sits down on the sofa without looking at me.

Opposite him, it happens to be that vase.

Betty and I look at each other, nervously eating our food. Probably it’s because of the guilty of the broken vase, I always feel that his eyes are looking at the vase.

I finish my meal in a couple of bites in panic and run away from the scene of the crime.

Then, Frances Louis knocks at my door.

Oh no. did he find out?

I hide in the room, not knowing what to do.

But if I didn’t open the door, will I look suspicious?

Finally, I open the door.

Frances Louis's eyes fall on my face, his brows knitting together, and he puts out his hand to touch my wound.

“What happened to your face?” His voice is low and clearly unhappy.

“No big deal.” I say casually, I take a step back uncontrollably.

Crap! I get this life depending on my face. If I had a scar on my face, would Frances Louis get tired of me and throw me out of the house?

I feel a little happy about this possibility.

“How did you hurt your face?”

I thought Frances Louis would leave it at that, but he pursues it to the end.

I can only keep lying.

“I broke a glass carelessly and cut my face.”

“Glass?” Frances Louis gives me a meaningful look, then he strides in and sits on my bed. He asks me with a smile, “This afternoon, I received two messages on my phone. You spent three million. What did you buy?”

I am stunned.

I thought a rich man like Frances Louis would not bind bank cards with the phone.

I smile guiltily. I go to sit on his laps, wrapping his neck and act coquettishly, “You give me the money and you want me to spend it, right? Couldn’t I buy something I like?”

“Of course, you can.”

His words make me relieved.

Fortunately, the honey trap works, otherwise I really don't know how to explain. I don't even know what I can buy for three million dollars!

“But when did you begin to collect antiques? Why don’t I know?”