Stuck In His Heart

Chapter 152 Fear Of Losing (6)

The other day, he didn't go to bed until about four o'clock in the morning. He woke up at six twenty in the morning. When she opened her sleepy eyes, she saw the man wearing a tie.

When she closed her eyes, she could hear light footsteps approaching her.

When he walked to the bedside, he bowed his head and kissed her on the lips. The hoarse and ambiguous voice of greeting made her earlobes burn, "good morning."

He strode out of the bedroom as Consuela still pretended to be asleep.

As soon as the bedroom door was closed, Consuela immediately opened her eyes. Her eyes were filled with confusion and bewilderment. 'that man is really affectionate!' she thought.

Sometimes, being meticulous and petty would make her feel that she may be loved and protected in the palm of his hand. If there was no outsider stretching out her hand to break that false illusion, she would really be able to sink in.

She should express her gratitude to Laura.

After she got up, she found a white, gray dress, with its low-key logo hidden in the hem from the wardrobe.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she stooped down and fumbled for the bottom of the dresser. She then took out the kraft paper bag. When she opened the corners of the letter, she could see a few photos in it.

She was in a bad mood all of a sudden. After tidying up her things, she went downstairs as usual to have the breakfast specially prepared by Nancy.

The man who had cleaned up in the morning was not here. So she didn't have to pretend anymore.

When she was chewing the tasteless seafood porridge, the familiar maid Miranda suddenly came over and said, "Mrs. Richie, Mr. Richie ordered you not to have yoga class next month." Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

After swallowing the porridge, she asked in confusion, "Why not?"

What did the yoga teacher do to him?

Miranda shook her head. Evidently, she wasn't sure what the problem was. As a result, she didn't know how to answer it. Waving her hand, Consuela said, "Okay, I see."

When she was about to turn around and leave, Consuela suddenly remembered and asked, "When did you plant these flowers in the garden?"

Despite her young age, Miranda had a high position in the Ye's house. She had worked there for a long time and was sent here by Richie's mother not long ago.

She said she would take care of her and Richie, but she felt more that many servants in the villa were actually sent by the Ye's house to monitor their lives.

Otherwise, if something happened, his mother would know it and come here at once. It was difficult to make her not suspect it.

"Mrs. Richie, those flower seeds were brought back by Mr. Richie himself from abroad. They have been planted since he moved out and started his own house. Mr. Richie seldom came back here before, so he asked me and the other servants to take care of them.

Abroad? Then it should be related to Angie.

Nodding with a smile, Consuela replied, "you may leave now."

Without any doubt, Miranda nodded and left. There was only Consuela in the room, not knowing what to do.

Oh, she felt so hurt when she thought of what he said last night. The garden was for the future mistress, but the real mistress was not the one he expected.

She didn't know when it would become what he expected.

Frowning, Consuela gulped down a glass of milk and turned around to go upstairs.

She wore a pair of sunglasses and dressed in a very low-key way. With her hands grasping the bag with photos, she headed to the photo studio that Debbie had pointed out to her.

She wanted to see whether Laura tried to synthesize the photos or not. Although she had known the answer, she expected it.

She looked forward to seeing the false photos. She hoped that Richie would treat her well. She believed that all the good things he had done for her were real. But, how could she accept such a beautiful reality.

There were not many places she knew about in L City. She followed her sister and Harry before. Her parents even hired teachers at home to teach her something.

So as a local, she had to ask Debbie, a person from other province. Where was not very famous, but a good photo studio?

Without thinking too much about what Consuela wanted to do, Debbie said, "After the baby is born, let's go there to take photos together."

Before waiting for her to accept it, Debbie added, "If the boss knows that I take you to that kind of place, he will kill me."

Consuela intentionally didn't take the car assigned by the villa to get to the destination directly. Instead, she stopped at a cafe. She told the driver that she wanted to meet a few friends whom she hadn't seen for a long time and asked him to pick her up later.

Richie made this rule last time. He wouldn't let Consuela take another car to his villa by herself.

Since she met Harry the other day, Richie seemed to worry about her safety so much. After entering the coffee shop, she asked a waiter to go out from the back door.

It was not a whim to stop here, but instead, they walked back from the cafe, crossed another street, and turned left. Then they could see the photo studio.

Half an hour later, Consuela finally saw the photo studio with a retro European and American style.

The storekeeper was a young man with fair skin, which was as white as if he hadn't been in the sun for years. A tinge of surprise flashed across his eyes under a pair of glasses after he saw someone pushing the door open.

He was surprised that there would be a guest here.

"Can you help me identify the authenticity of the photos here?" Consuela coughed, her eyes hiding under the large sunglasses. Only her pink lips and small chin could be seen.

The storekeeper was stunned for a few seconds before regaining his composure. With a broad smile on his face, he said, "welcome. I can tell anything like those photos from here."

When she first saw the strange look in the man's eyes, she still doubted if she had come to the wrong place. But after hearing the bragging words, she inexplicably felt relieved. She pursed her lips and passed the photos in her kraft bag to them.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's my pleasure. You pay for my hard work." The storekeeper took the photos and waved at Consuela.

Lowering her head, Consuela curled her lips.

The man copied the photos and threw them on the computer. After a while, he said decisively, "Although they looked old, they didn't make Photoshop or other processes."

The person was not the one on the photo. She was able to check whether the photo was forged, or it was about a man and a woman's intimate photos. Anyone with a discerning eye would think that she was threatened by a mistress.

Consuela didn't give up. She took out the other photos and showed them to the man. It turned out to be the same, as she had noticed in her heart.