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... with Mr. Guan?

   Isn't she the most special?

   She is in the afternoon, and then, this Guan Zong is at night, right? Time management guru huh? He is really good!

  Bitting her red lips, she became annoyed.

On the side, Luo Bingyan's expression was not very good-looking either. She always felt that Mr. Ye was aloof and honest, not the kind of casual scumbag, but now it seems that she still doesn't know Mr. Ye that well. !

   His image in my heart will not coll ...

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Lu Chaochao went through the book. He was transformed into a cannon fodder who was drowned at birth and whose identity was taken over by the heroine.

The heroine killed her relatives out of righteousness and reported that her adoptive mother and grandfather were collaborating with the enemy and treason, causing the whole family to be wiped out.

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Lu Chaochao looked at his mother who had been brainwashed for many years: “Mom, your beloved husband is waiting for the birth of a child outside the house.”

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Lu Chaochao complained, realizing that the whole family had changed their fate against fate.

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

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“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

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His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

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“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.