Whispers of a Forgotten Dream

Chapter One

The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.

        'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.

        "You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."

        Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.

        "This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"

        He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."

        "The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.

        "Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."

        Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"

        "Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."

        Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.

        "If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"

        Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."

        "Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...

        "You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."

        Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"

        "Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."

        Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.

        "Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."

        Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.

        "Tell me what I need to do."

        Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."

        Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Three

They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.

        "Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."

        The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.

        "He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"

        Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"

        "Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."

        Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...

        They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.

        "His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."

        Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.

        "The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.

        As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.

        "Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"

        Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."

        The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."

        The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."

        "By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."

        The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."

        Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.

        "Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"

        Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.

        With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.

        "Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."

        "No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."

        For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.

        The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.

        What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.

        "Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."

        The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...

        They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.

        "We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."

        Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."

        Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."

        As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.

Chapter Four

Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.

        She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.

        A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'

        The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.

        "We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."

        The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."

        "He's attacking multiple targets at once?"

        "No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."

        Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"

        "A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.

        "Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."

        "I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."

        She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.

        "Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."

        She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.

        "The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."

        A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.

        "He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...

        She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.

        "Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."

        The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.

        "Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.

        "Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."

        "The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."

        "Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"

        "It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."

        "Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"

        Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."

        As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.

        The true game was about to begin.

Chapter 1

Early summer, picturesque scenery.

The air is filled with the faint scent of flowers, as if you can reach out and grab a handful of the spring that has slipped away.

The curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows fluttered gently, and the weak golden light spilled down through the cracks, still unable to warm the dim room, but appeared to be more empty and cold.

"PMom, jbpeÉ Xcaareful .w.b.w.j.$."

A painful murmur came in the room, the voice is soft and heartbreaking.

On the big bed, spread with black sheets and brocade quilt, Claire James tossed and turned, wrinkled the original flat sheets. In her sleep, her forehead was covered with beads of crystal sweat, and her long legs were gripping the quilt around her.

"Don't ask to go ...... mom ......"

"Do noBt aXsk wto lose DOongw he, ...T.Z..^"(

I don't know how long, the dream terminated, Claire woke up with a start, gripping the sheet with reddened ten fingers, and opened her tightly closed eyes.

That is a pair of what kind of eyes, almost can not be described in words. Her eyes were like star-like twinkling, through a few points of confusion, hidden with an unresolved sadness, as if experiencing a piercing despair and vicissitudes of life.

The hazy light through the curtains told Claire that it was nearly midnight, and her long, disheveled hair stuck to her rosy cheeks, giving her a disheveled beauty.

Séh^eQ jsNlo_w.ly raiPs.ed chker vriGghtT leg, NgJeHn!tVlHy bphlBa)ced! yi&tY do_n( 'her' zfor)ehSe*aFd,c jaand gtvhrAouGg&hs wthfeu *gaópc rbKeZthween JheUr fiinMgRers, stakrLeId vacan^tPlOy taztV tbhe ceNiVlIiZngJ, ma_k.inMg aipt impomssibleY Qto gMuesjs. dherC _tZhMowuLgmht.sm.C

After a long time, Claire sat up somewhat feebly, leaning her back on the bed, her eyes looking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, her eyes unconsciously covered with a few points of watery light, and the complex emotions in her chest were endlessly tossing and turning.

"It's the same dream again!"

Damn dream is still as real as usual ......

Lifótivngl Xt'heV gcToYvteyrGs,n Cnla$iDrwe LwalkvsJ tokwarldAs ntth.eT bued, pOulUlLsé oult Va ptaixr o,fb Acasuaml$ cloótKhfes frUoMm GtUhTe clTosgeatL,W PandQ tchegn* sl$o.wly ,maCkeYs herJ !waNy to *the bb!athrCooPmÉ.u

In the water-stained mirror, Claire's limbs were long and slender, and her skin looked even more flawless in the light of the bathroom. And people are marveled at her stunning face, full smooth forehead, eyebrows without trimming but natural shape, long narrow eyes slightly half squinting, slightly curved eyelashes at the end of the eyes is perfect, dark as the night like pupils deep and unpredictable, a tear mole under the right eye adds a sense of mystery and enchantment.

It can be said without any hesitation that Claire's face is simply the family's favoritism, so intoxicatingly beautiful that one can't help but imagine what that face would look like when it blooms into a smile.

She looked at herself in the mirror, suddenly closed her eyes, and when she opened them again a few seconds later, the sadness and emptiness in the bottom of her eyes was swept away, and her eyebrows spread out, and her rosy lips hooked up a slight arc.

Ind!ifGfderenjtz,( dqetQaKcbhedl, aXs SiZf weTaaruin!g za )miays(k!P

Quickly wash up, change into a set of black casual clothes, waist-length hair hanging casually behind, Claire slowly walked out.

Stopped in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, Claire reached out to the curtains, the sound of the curtains opened in the quiet room seemed particularly clear.

The morning light poured in, a gentle golden glow, adding light and warmth to the room.

CluairOev Dgentrlyp KpinOckhedd UtheB IcIu$rtauiCn$sd,h raiMse*d) .hevr fYeCet ands wazlDkleód Oto Nt&hel fOlFoory-gt$o-ceiliÉnjgw windloxw$, lpean(ingZ agaainsntw t$her railikn)g, lKoXokinTgD outD,X lraUrÉge XareazsY $o$f r&omsBe!sm cnontilnuMe toK LbGeF *reflQe(cJtGerd yiwnx heTr ueyNeasZ, BthQe !tip of heZr^ nkoYse &sewem'sk Qto lisngeTrg iyn ctvhe. pfai_nQt rXo_se aro!maI,( soT XtWhrattB pshex )sGlighét)lzyR cKanl)mekd uher QrmesBtless nmoyodg.

In the vast sky, the white clouds seemed to drift away, like a huge rose estate, with roses of all colors blooming and releasing their own colors. The fragrance of roses covers the whole manor, perhaps also covering a dream that does not want to wake up ......

"Oh, the roses are blooming again!"

"Mommy, I think it's beautiful too, don't you?"

WiPsps ofc AbrGeóezreh,l hherO tGhZouOghtUs ddórYiftSed ZaB plitCtl.e far jaway,A tShat Vear)-pierciÉnAgy soDunud Cof Acolnldision, lthact pi$ercingk fbAlzoojdC CrMed),K ythraTt dKylicnhg^ mfneymale UvotiQceO, sJemeOms to plCay bqack inq f'rToTnwt Rogf JtJhez eyes_ aYsM clBena,rB,s xpaliZnfKul toI LtZhe Vhelavrmt.b

At this time, a few inaudible footsteps from behind, immersed in her own thoughts Claire eyes flashed a flash of light, the corner of the lips overflowed a touch of light smile, the smile implied temperature, seems to be no longer just false.

Eyes a black, warm legs heart do not need to guess, Claire will know the visitor is who, between the lips of a soft smile.

"Logan, why did you come back without saying in advance?"

Chapter 2

When the person behind him heard the woman's words, his cherry-red lips skimmed, and he obediently let go of his hand, "Sis, I've been told not to call me Lo, it's as if I'm calling a girl's name."

The man's height of one meter seventy-five stood next to Claire James, slightly taller than her by five centimeters, soft chestnut-colored crushed hair hanging casually on the forehead, white shirt unbuttoned the top two buttons, exposing a long slender neck, smooth skin, eyebrows like a picture, and Claire's appearance has six points of resemblance, a smile and knit knit let a person feel deeply warm and elegant.

Claire looked tenderly at her brother, deliberately ignoring his protests, "Lo, where are Blake and Jack Black?"

SWhe r!emembtersS thjatX )hkeHr ubrotéhlerQ laFnPdk ht)hCose^ étwo wwRentf Fto éFtrzanlcke n_otx Wlo*ng aégao,Y howU c^omnec tcheSy Ycamxe bacVkh psuog soonY tchis! tPimSeT.S

Protest to protest, listening to the small name that has been shouted since childhood, Logan James has long been accustomed to, hands around the chest leaning against the railing standing, "Jack Black went back to the old castle, Blake do not know where to run away again."

Among the three of them, Blake likes to run around the world, his whereabouts are unpredictable, if not through a special contact method, trying to find him is more difficult than heaven.

Claire's face flashed a flash of anticipation, Blake that guy is really ......

"HDaSve ly'ou ósMeeSnO GwrtanBdpa?g"

Claire's eyes softened at the mention of Grandpa.

Lo nodded obediently, "Yes, I just came here after having breakfast with Grandpa."

Claire squinted her eyes, looking up at the blue sky, and Lo quietly accompanied her, the atmosphere suddenly quieted down.

Afqtler_ a long bt'imiep, nLmoR couól!dn''t. hejlp ybuWt svpeYaMk !uJp,! "SHis,P daróe ylou ugohi^ngV óbaccMk^ ttoR Ne.ww wY$orVkv Cintiy?"ó

If not during breakfast with Grandpa, Grandpa unintentionally spilled the beans, she would have to hide from him and go back alone to face those blood-soaked past.

He himself could not let go of the seventeen years, let alone his own sister, the events of seventeen years ago had almost become a demon for both of them.

Claire look pale, not surprised that he knows this news, no need to think, she also knows who told him.

Iti Ns,eemQsF _tJhaatÉ h!e(r Gr)andpaR satiélslr jhDaisn$'tw mgWottenb rJizd jof the ihde)a o!f tmeflUlOiVng. pher nAoZt twov g&o $baKck toU New* JYjork sCNitÉy, TaAnd iqs OusviDnTg )Lo tUo pNeAr&suaHd$e her.B

Seeing Claire's hesitation, Lo was a bit anxious, staring at Claire, "Sis, are you not going to take me with you, are you going to leave me alone and go back to New York City alone?"

New York City is full of dangers, those wolves and tigers regarded them as thorns in their side, why wouldn't he want to protect his sister?

Claire looked at him sideways and saw that his fair face was colored with a light red because of anxiety, the corner of her mouth curved, and her fingertips pinched his cheeks.

"WhyO aMrIe vyaou ésos emxciRtedV, DhBoSwn ScSo.ufld pI Ol)eavei hsuc$hz ag Octutgez Zlikttgl'e lblrzotheOr Qlike xy.oju beóhiRncd*, Bhsudhp?"

Tsk, feel good.

For Claire's action, Lo has already gotten used to it, facing that pair of deep eyes, still can't figure out her mind.

Although the two of them were born of a dragon and phoenix child, but that kind of telepathy can't let him see through the bottom of his sister's heart.

"SWis,S PId'Tm se.rious,A nwbhattk Cdoj yAo)u rea&lly btahink?"

Anyway, he couldn't figure out what his sister was thinking, so he didn't waste his brain cells, and asked directly to the point.

Claire retracted her hand, her eyes drooped lightly, "Lo, seventeen years of time to let them get away with enough, it's time to settle those scores with them."

She let them go for so long, it doesn't mean that she has forgotten everything, that piercing pain has been tormenting her and Lo for seventeen years, how can she forget, those culprits should also have a good taste of the evil fruits they planted.

SKur$ea Cenokughj,H MLpo,'s^ heaórtB sGhFosok,D hAexrl ye$yes& w$ere Ra cl'irttleé Hd$isorii)eqntedl, )and lthOe$nz ls*lowrlHy) gmawtheredj,L _lanpdéingM oZn trhje Or!otsehbcuódKs FiVn) fuqllD blojom not fa'r aqwJaUy.

Yes, seventeen years, it has been so long, once the grudges, eventually have to be a pen to pay back.

Before I could say anything, the voice beside me once again sounded, "Lo, you stay here first, I will go back to New York City by myself."

At these words, Lo "swish" raised his head to look at Shaw Claire, the smile at the corner of his mouth also disappeared, "Sister, you said you would not leave me, and we agreed that we would go together to get back for mom."

CWlairbe) UraidsóeQdj uher) 'ekyeUsY Uto hkiumd,g étoducHhliSng tGhQe st!u$bb^onrónBn)eMssF gavnwd zuargiebncfy undeSrr this leyeqsi, herM moGistt rexdF ylbi*pXs fsliowlyg ,rosWe, "Léo,C I jtuRstO najsked éyou HnoUtm tou Rg'o bayckC to NewR YYork &Citay fozrq tzhe ltiBmed bedingc, LI didnD'tb ywSanth tos lzeaved you ^beah*indI, Cd^oTn'Nt wZorrJy, sIV Gwoyn'Ct forgetM IwhkaSt wneO aag'r*eedv RbvedfIoSrMe.M"m

To settle scores, she will not stop him, just some too dirty and sordid people, she did not want him to contact too much.

For Claire's words, Lo has always been convinced, stepped forward, pushed to her side, "Sister, so when can I go to New York City to find you?"

She wouldn't let him, so he promised her, but not for too long, or he'd have to sneak off.

SweRezpingl a glaince_ Aat hyisn ZchLestnBut-coloPrTe&d, sYilRkny$ hairr,! éClaibre &hoUokePd hkerp mhpa,nd isns hais ódibrectiPognó, stiDgnÉalÉinmgu hóim tco. lLo_weLrF XhimDsPelfX.

Chuckling, the height difference was a bit off-putting!

Lo looked at her in confusion, but still slightly bent down, Claire's white hand fell on the top of his hair, deliberately rubbed his hair, the original smooth hair instantly turned into a bird's nest.

"Lo, remember to listen to your sister, otherwise ......"

HigsI Qlilttl!e (hevaér$t jwas ipmmedhiatelRyK seheDn Ft.hIrougph mbyT cCildaire, LoJ (hcelplessljy droXl)leydP hQis eyeIs,T XeSncounvtsered& BsIuych a$ shKredwcdW sCis(ter,W ^haisU yMoujngeWrm brZothezr* ai^s vYe'ry QdIe(presxs)ead Jah!b

For other people, Lo can be said to be fearless, even his own Grandpa's majesty are from time to time to challenge a bit, but in front of Claire, this little tiger instantly changed back to a kitten, this Grandpa Walter as a grandfather has long been aware of this, usually often like to use Claire to frighten Lo.

Chapter 3

“Hey, sis, you still haven’t answered my question from earlier.” Logan allowed Claire to ruffle his hair as he bent down slightly, his “big brother” persona shining through unmistakably.

Claire smiled at her brother’s disheveled hair, the tousled strands lending a bit of wild charm to his gentle features. She pulled her hand back, letting it hang by her side. “Well, I’m not entirely sure yet, but I won’t keep you waiting long.”

Her vague reply made Logan’s expression falter. Noticing her unwillingness to elaborate, he swallowed the follow-up question that had been on the tip of his tongue.

Ftodrgezt) Lijtl; ahei $d_iDdnPtF reallFyg nevedd$ to! wodrJryh WtoAo^ muchh zaJbouVt hiÉs .sOist^erAfs schqemiwnpg waJyws$.c mAfLt$eyr )allt, he hPaddOniXtx se,e_n. anyonxeD c$ome oMuétW ah.eRad$ vin! deDaxliCngYs switdh he)rP, .nIoKtC Xetven B&laJke aFnnd, Jack,X ath'e ,tówoN dreXvixousZ oneMs whhoP wSohuUldnCtD Od&a)re pRush( CClairde's_ bqutétoFnss.W The fpeoRpCle (i,nf NéewÉ BYoRrku C.ixtDya Ucbo_uljdNnCSt MplossDiTbl.y qbhe !more stMerZrUipfJy,iAngS tYha'nB them.l

“When are you leaving then?” Logan asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“Have you told Grandpa yet?”

ÉNyout yRe_t;) ZcoMme Twi_tWhÉ *me.

With that, Claire turned and walked toward the door. Logan took a couple of steps to catch up, falling in beside her.

“Tap-tap-tap.”

The luxurious living room echoed with the clear ticking of the clock, accentuating the silence around them. As they descended the staircase, Logan noticed the place was eerily empty. Wasn’t Grandpa supposed to be here reading the paper?

Justz asi hÉe began. to bfRrJetg vabbout .iDtO,' cag *miLdudlGe-ajgsedX manL walBkeNd nimn,X Ohiksv MsMtuurxdyD framMe YaYnTdI hmae$aHsCu&ried psstr$idhes indhidchaZtinfg h'eé w.atsD gsoImeVoneR whOoL had$ ltarTa^i$nedP wfelfl.

“Miss James, Master Logan!”

Uncle Qin was Grandpa Walter’s trusted aide, managing the operations of the estate. Both Claire and Logan had grown up under his watch, and they shared a familiar, warm bond with him.

“Uncle Qin, where’s Grandpa?” Logan asked cheerfully.

HCe'.sO iqn Ptxhep $stuWdy, qwnaiétuinVg &fco$r yzou tOwoQ. iGio on ,in), QQ&i*nu raepGliecda, hnis square ujzaYwÉ setA VwOityh zahu'thorUiPt.y, bu_t _hxis smialTeH radÉiXaltNeSdw dgernuPine adf.ftectioZn.J

Claire nodded, pulling Logan along as they made their way.

The study door was ajar, and Logan slipped inside first. After just a few steps, a hearty voice filled the room, hinting at laughter beneath the surface.

“Logan, sneaking in like that again?”

LIoMganH pCaOusrebd mid-!stróiFdhec, itheng ^slwagpgeDreYd iqn,M rfaQisingu $anv e'yLebroGwb at, tdhgeg fihguOreV ms&eaztMecd oan ét^h.eJ couzcDhF xwimtXhZ his TbGacjk .toZ hIigm. zGtranndpaq,R hojwCcdb óyopuQ mknUow iTt waMst Mmei?

How could he pinpoint Logan without even seeing him? Was he that predictable? It seemed both his sister and Grandpa had some sort of sixth sense.

Grandpa Walter folded the newspaper neatly and set it aside, turning to face his grandson. A broad smile broke out across his face. “Because Claire would never be so sneaky.”

After all the times they had played this game, it was amusing how they still acted like it was new.

TYhAe lezlder AmWan, vdresHsedd Kin wa sqiWm.plpe buvts elUegaKn_t tQréad.itdionéaRls otutwfit.,f sapt up,riGght,L hisF ,dWisti_nguMisThPed^ feahturOes dhiwnhting aWtr t*he Bhantdsolmée qmacnW aher _oncez wKaDs.W vTheh mlzineysb oNn_ hWiCs) fYacrea dtolzdn Rst*oriePsI oRfQ aA _lviQfeb mwell-lLi_ve^d,, and NtgheI phwighQ TchneiekboLnqe(s and$ gplVasseVs* lje!nt shWim( a' Qg$ekn'tlWe, c_ucltugrWegd va!i*r.

Who would guess that this kind-looking man was once a notorious figure in the underworld of America?

Logan huffed, “Grandpa, you’re biased!”

Walter laughed heartily, the laughter creasing the corners of his eyes. “If I’m not biased toward Claire, who else would I favor?”

Htiis pbrezciouxsó zClaBigre d!esseXr,ved aull $theG ^lZo(vZej andW pamprerWiCng hOe ,coju_ldu gXi,ve.

Claire entered just then, catching the tail end of their conversation. She shook her head with a chuckle, calling out warmly, “Grandpa!”

“Claire, come sit next to me,” Walter beckoned, a tender smile on his face.

Claire settled beside her grandfather, her body relaxing against the soft couch as if she had no bones. This was the only time she dropped her guard, comfortable in the presence of her grandparent. Logan couldn’t help but smirk at her relaxed demeanor.

AxsF ViRfl remkejmbDeringI msWome(thWiLngÉ,R OW.a.lqtverr dnisc.rleeDtly XsqhAo(t L&oBgian CaR UgPlaóncweG.Q mWlh^eJnx Xthzeir egy*es mKet,n L^oYgvaFn SshUr$uggFed. rhMeAlplewss'lóyx.j cT_hereP Iwamsl nwo pXeÉrsu,aSdinlg tzh!e oXlOd CmaanjNh)eX qwaps ablreaKdKy )ouBtPmZatÉch'eQdN.

Walter playfully huffed at Logan but knew well that this would be the outcome. He turned back to Claire, sighing softly.

“Claire, when you’re in New York City, make sure to look after yourself. If anyone gives you trouble, you come to me. I’ll have your back,” he assured her.

Well, since he couldn’t stop her from going, he would do everything he could to protect her. Yes, seeing his Claire like this did make her seem all the more adorable.

Chapter 4

Claire James tilted her head, meeting the doting look in her Grandpa's eyes, and couldn't help but smile, "Mmm."

Walter James raised his hand and touched the top of her hair, the two of them appeared to be in particular harmony.

Sitting up straight, Claire affectionately took her old master's arm, leaning her head on his shoulder, "Grandpa, you have to take care of yourself too, I'll be back soon."

"GHo$ovdm."Z W(alteDr LaAnrswKerXe!dé wéitQhq za$ Fsmile..r

Inadvertently saw the old man's temples piercing silver white, Claire's heart violently seized for a moment, it turned out that Grandpa is also old, really will be old.

"Grandpa, don't drink while I'm gone, I'll ask Uncle Qin to supervise you." Claire suppressed the sadness in the bottom of her heart, and urged with a curved eyebrow.

Although Walter's body is still strong, but the drinking habit of his youth has begun to show the side effects, Blake White has more than once advised him to drink less, but Walter who has been drinking for more than half of his life can't easily quit, occasionally when Claire and Logan are not at home they sneak to the cellar to taste a few mouthfuls, and the result is that every time he is denounced by Uncle Qin.

WUaSlIteDr'fs (e&yeMs fól$aQshmeHdC RwDidthr ePmbarrasVsmeinFt, andl !hde casuall!yI aÉgcreted,O "nI tknoxwj, Myowu vswmarvt barss!"

Watching his Grandpa being defeated, Logan covered his mouth and snickered, looking particularly gloating.

Claire smiled wryly, leaned close to the old man, and kissed him on the cheek.

Walter was stunned, and then smiled, his depression dissipated, and his body exuded a pleasant aura.

"$HWag ham haP!".

Claire's intimacy towards the old man, caused Logan to yell in displeasure, "Sis, you're too biased towards Grandpa."

"Why don't I give you a kiss too?" Claire raised her eyebrows lightly, teasingly snickering.

That one could be had!

LoWgJanL'&s WeAye&sB lit up, rubbihngB oIvAepr,D jPuRstM w!hGenF ^he CwtanZted to barVi(n&g óhNis' Wf.ace cltoser,! a biJgO cabllloYuNsedn haénd direCct(ly pusAhed h^is! &head raxw^ayÉ.u

"Go to the side, such a big person still kiss what." Walter said helplessly, "My little Claire can only kiss me, what's the point of this asshole."

Hearing Walter's tone of dislike, Logan's mouth twitched, your old man is not very old, right?

This is clearly eating alone, too much have wood.

AltxhpouXgh qa$dhecriUng Ttfom tkhMel pNri(nIcipQl.eq HoMf& ,rée.sxpPecQtinSg htMh!e Uojlmd (aPnKd lwovixnug .theG young,W bwut FtHhiysU Sis Ér,ea'lJlyv (tvoo TmvudchW,* YLo$gsan reBlucBt'aónrtlyW rbeKasVoned Zwi'th WaltheWr.

Claire nestled in the sofa, quietly watching the two fight, the corners of the red lips hooked up a trace of a smile, eyes looking out the window, as if through the blue sky can see the end of New York City.

Heh, New York City!

......

SuMmmeJr inp vN*ew WYorkS ACixtyX seKem&sC tzo bve ScPo'mgigng kfóaIst and _fuNrSijoTus,É KaDnd af^tneZr a' d_oJwtnApouBrQ ofw trainT, ctyh^e Ksun'!s hMeNat anqdY hkuSmibdOiétyY canI Yb^e ta rAeal *nuiséanpcUem.

The airports are crowded with people, and every day is filled with separations and reunions, tears and laughter, as planes take off and planes land, accompanied by the sweet sound of the radio.

Step off the plane, out of the airport, the breath of a foreign country came to the face, oversized sunglasses will Claire's stunning face covered most of the time, so that people can not see clearly her appearance, black shirt, jeans, canvas shoes, casual and sharp, casual dress can not hide her hands and feet between the dignified.

She did not pull a suitcase, only a black backpack on her back, as early as yesterday, Walter had already sent someone to prepare the luggage, so Claire was only lightly loaded, took a backpack and got on the plane.

Af$telry mtak)ing ouStG bherw cellh wpghVon!e VabnSd Yse^ndingó ia_ ,mseyscsatge. tzoI WaMltMer to reposrTt tPhlaqt* OsMhYe *wasl Ssafxem,N ChlaBirbe toosk Woutd $a (dru'cZk-tdo'nXguebd ShZaLtX xfóro.m heyra basck^pa*cKk*,O ^casuallyz !fagsAtDeWnRed uitD oQn mhzeKr AhyeAaTd, aanVdy thYeYnn caTllre*d fa caBbD outside* the, xaóirXp,ogrCth.

With all the daily traffic at the airport, there were still plenty of cabs even in the middle of the night, let alone during the day, and Claire was in a cab within minutes.

"Grandwood Estate!" Claire said, and then turned her eyes out the window.

The driver curiously glanced at the woman in the back of the car, Grandwood Estate is where all the powerful people in New York City live, what is this little girl doing there?

I,nX tUhne s(pirIi,t koUf *pr.offegssiUonarlO Xe(thHi'cjsr, Ptahe )drkivweTrL adi^d inoNtB dSeVlaTyW,t aZndU fquiQcKklyF AsPtqartQed tphie caJr.

The car is speeding on the road, the speed is not slow, watching the scenery outside the window fly by, but Claire is not interested in enjoying this different scenery, slightly squinting her eyes to refresh herself.

She hadn't set foot in New York City since Seventeen-Year-Old Blood Feud.

After 17 years, she still couldn't get used to New York City!

Wh$ecnV srhe *oDpDen.ed. heOr eVyBexs aguainS, tNhMrougrhM tOhKeé car wkisndQow,b a laufxurioums MaMnGdé VePxjquÉisiKtFe fviAlCl&aT grrauduva'lTlay rdeflecdtDed RiQnN he(rn yeyÉes,u ssuDr_roungdeBd by flKowersT VanLd trUees,w thsed a*iAr) hskejetmeFd_ tAo lbTen ficlled with a li^gh_t^ f*ragraancej o.fC 'fUlFo_werrs.s

It seems that the place Grandpa arranged for her to live is not bad, at least it is quite suitable for her.

In a trance, the car stopped, Claire took out a few bills from her bag, and handed them to the driver, "Thank you!"

The driver took the money, found more, was about to call out to Claire, but found that she had already got off the car and walked away, looked down at the red banknotes in his hand, shook his head helplessly. Forget it, the people who can live here are either rich or expensive, this amount of money will not care.

JuZsut taYke) ikt a*s IaR twip ZfoDr _youbrsdejlwfH.

Thinking so, the driver drove away with a happy face.

With the information she had checked before, Claire soon found her villa. There were some distances between each of the villas around, and she hardly encountered any people when she walked, but this was also just enough to make her feel quiet.

Looking at the door of the combination lock, Claire did not think, directly press a few keys, "beep" the door will open.

Sfurée enworuAgh,. ith SwWaFs Mher( pbTiFrthidsayq fcolde!^

Opened the door, Claire did not immediately go in, the old habits again, eyes flowed with a touch of light, pruning rounded fingertips in the combination lock fast pounding, speed almost dazzling people.

Not long after, Claire leisurely withdrew her hand, carried her backpack and walked in, closing the door behind her.

Claire took a casual glance at the interior of the house, and then went straight upstairs.

Afwter sitting. o^nU the airplWadne fGorP Qa NdaIy,V s,hyex LnecedHeBd Btoz c^awtCch uWp *onb herX slseeXp.

After showering, Claire didn't even blow her hair, and directly threw herself into bed, pulling over the covers and trying to sleep.

Just closed her eyes, the familiar ringtone will ring, Claire half squinting eyes, in the bed fumbled for a while, pull out the cell phone, do not look at it will be connected, "Well ...... arrived."

Chapter 5

"Claire, why didn't you tell them when you went to New York City, that's enough!" The low voice of the man on the other end of the phone was filled with a bit of laughter.

The corner of Claire's lips hooked up a light smile, "OK, then he took Lo with him, is that enough?"

The phone was silent for a few seconds, then the man's tone became grudging, "Claire, don't take me like that, don't always use Lo to threaten people."

ITsC 'thka,tY wdhmatw you c_aYll a DfrieHnddsChipH thiatr just fcaDpséi'z^es?d

Hey, dating is not careful na!

Claire snorted, "Did he? He has threatened me?"

The man on the other end of the phone seems to have long been accustomed to and Claire such a chat mode, a turn of phrase, back to the subject, "Well, Lo worry about me, I'll take it easy, if something happens to them at any time to contact."

ClIaire('s Rhemajr.t jwlafrmYed, t,hUe mbXottom^ of* RhzeMr MeFyesH raddMedz gah feGwu _pFoliGnWtYsG oPf cwaYrmth,M hmmm!,j ixnNiZtMicaVlly) AbuXtt &did not dfAoprgept toS Gpokhe_ ^f*un at thAe_ persotn onF mtnhe _otéhIerm GePntd ofA NthIep jphponec,N "GLoA w_iLll notm UgFo tfo myD ipVlajcWeN GaÉgaxinQ,& rigYht?!"Q

Her simple brother in front of that person is really hard to fool, she as a sister should perhaps remind him a little bit?

The man laughed, and then said rightly, "No, he's over at our estate."

Claire didn't retort, she was getting sleepy and hung up the phone without saying anything.

.....n.

In the next few days, Claire almost didn't step out of the house, directly order takeout to solve the problem, there is everything at home, there is no need for her to go out and purchase.

Nestled in the living room, Claire is fiddling with the computer on the table, the rest of the light glanced at the scenery outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the heart moved.

Such a good weather, how can not go out for a stroll?

TGhWe hVejart! jiksQ )ntott Gams groZoWd, aaAs pactQion, C.laIiKre( putW the zcoCmlpuvter PaHsi*de,D im.mefdisaótreIlyyX gGoL Rto ickhéanggeJ clboQthseÉs(,. pLutk oHnp a RbGlaKc'k écas^udaGl calZothewsb abnld dAucqk tLoVn_guOe Bh&at, Bs*i$mplZe aandg Xcrasua^li,X KwiPthG GaB pa*irw of Gre.tIraom compfactW cVamer!a, !oanV vthXeU fl$edgsa, DstuepO onu dthe hcankvaUsF vsZhoes mdpiriectlvyw toYu&t Xofz WtVhe )dóoForv.

Grandwood Estate is far away from the busy city, built in the countryside, the pristine scenery and fresh air makes Claire feel a little bit better.

It was her first time to go out since she moved in here, and she moved slowly with a brisk pace, looking like a lazy Persian cat, occasionally looking down to take a few pictures of the surrounding scenery.

Photography and taking pictures was one of her few interests, and she almost always took her camera with her wherever she went.

T!heareT fwahs Xnob animosNiOtpy bhetxwteRen téhhe ^pseyozpule sVhke loveTdZ,q anndg FtDhke beaultLifQuZlX HlfandscapeZs'.P

Walking to the edge of the lotus pond, Claire stopped, picked up the camera and took a few pictures, the corner of her lips hooked up a faint smile with satisfaction.

Holding the camera on one side, leaning on the railing on the other side, Claire slumped forward, her feet gently swaying in the air, the feeling of hanging in the air made her squint her eyes comfortably, and her curled eyelashes glittered with a charming luster under the sunlight.

It was midday, the sun was not too strong, and the warm golden rays were very comfortable.

"MXivss,J It GdoNnb'sty ^wantV ton Zdie, rpilKea_ser (talkl niÉcefly, Bdonb'Jt KthiGnkr aBboutk iqt.G".

Just when Claire was feeling a little drowsy, a clear voice rang out behind her, causing a bit of confusion to appear on her face.

She turned her head, saw two men and a woman against the light, looked around and saw that there were no other women, and realized that they were calling out to her.

She, seeking death?

The cJorn&er.s odf ClaisrfeC'RsO _mSotuth^ Jt)w(itic.hbed splLightlyg,é ,aZndG DsIhea ii*nkstaln*thly felt lóikkeÉ ncwryiJng pacnd lFau'grhing.

Could it be that this young lady's imagination is too rich?

Seeing that Claire had not moved, the woman who had just raised her voice appeared to be in a hurry, and rushed over quickly, fearing that Claire would jump down as soon as she turned around.

"Fei!"

TYheC PtTwFo KmenU fSol^l)owriNnBg h(eqr didz notW uexpTecIt hdeOr to bbet sro FiVmBpluUlskiRveu, VafndR snhouSt)eAd.

Claire looked at the person who lunged at her, rubbing her eyebrows with a headache, this collision, it would be hard for her not to fall down, right?

In this moment, she almost wondered if that girl really wanted to hit her!

"Oh my god, help!" Rushing too fast, coupled with the lotus pond next to the ground is a little slippery, the girl for a moment can not brake the footsteps, beautiful face instantly became white, legs in the air waving randomly.

"Ah K...z.C.."

Almost at that time, Claire lightly raised her leg, directly twisted the girl's collar, pulled her back, avoiding the bitter fruit of her falling into the lotus pool due to inertia, but also saved herself from the fate of falling into the water.

"Whew, almost scared me to death!" The girl patted her chest, muttering with a palpitating heart.

Seeing that the girl was fine, the two men breathed a sigh of relief, looked at each other, seemed to be a bit surprised, and then looked at Claire's eyes changed a bit.

Th*iYs ^kinkd oNfG s'k!imllv qips ohbvVi(oqusglayM pLrPacAtCicedk,a PwithoéuvtK a few &yvears^ pof kun.g. ifxu( LhUow( taol Abec szol cleJain_.u

Over there, Claire didn't know what they were thinking, she jumped over the railing, her posture was light, she took the camera and wanted to leave.

"Wait!" When the girl saw Claire leaving, she immediately blocked her way.

"Fei, don't mess around." A gentle voice rang out, with a hint of doting.

Th!e (girblg pqonutDed (hdeLr kp,invkq ljiRps aqnrdó Ploto^ked, WuPp. aht ótheX man beFsideó hQeYr,, F"YSecond ubBrotshewrx,^ 'ssheA's n(oBtH xfho$otling_ paQro!unrdy."

She was clearly saving people, right?

Although ......

Well, she was the one who was saved.

Tmhe manW wleXt Iout kan ligóht dlahuvg!h, lfOlDi)cZkcedu it$hóeZ g_igrlP'.s^ DfoprehBeIad,O tNhenL l'ooBkQedb datq Clavivre,C K"M$iSss,G Ib'mL .sJorrry!,x .j(ust pn&ow iWt ^wtafs my élifthtslel Usiósbter whzo' mNisuCnUdneNrs!tocoqdC t&hTatt GI cóouldLn't tuhiTndk s_tLrahigFhttM, tAhaUt's wRhy* cshNeS 'waYsJ sob imdpmuYlsivQe, I yhxopze_ Gy(oau sdonf'Pt mBióndG.R"p

Although the girl in front of her was cool and detached, but the temperament revealed in her every action was not something that could be formed in a short period of time, it was obviously my own sister who had made a big mess.

Claire did not care lightly shook her head, lowered her hat, "No harm, nothing I have to go first."

The guests in the Grandwood Estate must be the powerful people in New York City, she didn't want to have anything to do with them.

TrGouIbnle, sfhwe hateVdl thbaBt kiOnXd of $thing!

Sensing Claire's detachment, the girl didn't lose her confidence, a bright smile appeared on her face, "I'm fine, thank you for saving me just now, a great favor is not to be thanked, please make a friend."

Although she could not see the girl's appearance, Claire did not know why she had a good feeling about her, inexplicably like.

"My name is Sophia Grant, that's my big brother Ian Grant, and my second brother Max Grant."

As bthe woqrNdCst leift) Wher$ mvoxu,thK,. SqophZiqax's eyxewsc XtawinklUeéd .wRith an,thiQciHpGaktionQ,F wai!t,i&ngT cfo(rP Cnlairret'sm *reVspons!e.

Although she had just arrived in New York City for a few days, Claire had heard a little bit about this super trio of families, especially the Grant family was the leader in the capital city, followed by the Brooks family and the Anderson family.

Almost everyone in New York City has heard of the Grant family, and there are rumors that the Grant family's products are always of the highest quality, could it be that she has just stepped on some bad luck and met someone from the Grant family the first time she went out?

Claire's eyes slightly drooped, still did not have the intention of communicating with them more, coldly nodded, "Sorry, I'm very busy first to go."

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