Flash Marriage: Slow Down Mister novel Chapter 135

Horace, shocked, hung up the phone and went back upstairs to his room.

He was thrilled to see Clara changing but said nothing, "You've had a long day; go back to your bedroom and get some rest."

Clara knelt and lay close to his legs, saying, "What about you? You're more tired than me today, aren't you?"

Horace said, "I'm waiting for Alastair; he's coming to see me later for something."

"Oh, okay. Don't stay up too late." Clara nodded and went ahead to take a shower.

In the bathroom, Clara was lost in thought.

Clara was overwhelmed by everything that had happened at the auction today.

First Laura's diamond pen, to the loss of the peace amulet, to Horace's $10 million auctions for the peace amulet, Darren and Ashlee's fight, Ashlee's pregnancy and Horace's drink blocking ...

Clara inevitably feels many emotions.

Water is gentle, mainly as the warm water flows over Clara's body, each stream of heat invading her skin and flowing from her hair to her feet; Clara's tense nerves are instantly relieved, so comfortable.

Clara thought of Horace.

He had bought her mother's peace charm at the auction for $10 million and had stood up to Ashlee's spilt red wine in case she was hurt, and he was always there when she was in danger ...

It's just that there seem to be many obstacles between Clara and Horace, like Darren, Laura and the truth about what happened two years ago.

Perhaps Horace doesn't care, but what happened two years ago will always be a thorn in Clara's side, often stabbing her in the heart.

But who didn't have a past? The fire and Laura were the thorns in Horace's side. He still had to pretend to be disabled and got tons of things to deal with.

On the other side the living room.

Horace had been watching the news on his phone for a while but hadn't even read a word.

What Alastair said on the phone had thrown Horace into contemplation.

What was the truth, and could Alastair solve the mystery?

For a moment, Horace was suddenly terrified of knowing the truth. Because, as often happens, the truth is terrible.

Horace waited anxiously, and it was some time before Alastair arrived.

The nanny went back, and Horace got up from his wheelchair.

Everything about the auction was not exhausting; it was the wheelchair that was the most tiring.

Horace poured Alastair a glass of wine.

Alastair took it and said, "How could you still dare to drink red wine? You've had it all over you, addicted to it?"

He put his nose up, sniffed Horace's clothes, then covered his nose and said, "Such a strong smell of wine, huh? You seem to be a good drinker, man."

Horace asked impatiently, "Stop talking nonsense and tell me, what did you mean by what you said on the phone? Any luck with the silk scarf?"

Alastair looked pleased and said, "It's been a long night. What's your hurry? Alas, you're a man with no sense of humor, always acting cool, aren't you tired?"

Horace sat down on the sofa and said, "Stop it! Come on, tell me about the silk scarf; what do you remember, don't test my patience."

"All right, fine." Alastair threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender and said, "There's someone you have to thank on the auction. She's the one who reminded me of something related to the silk scarf."

"Who?" Horace waited for Alastair's answer.

Alastair laughed aloud at the sight of Horace's eagerness and said, "Look at your anxious face, tsk tsk. You don't get to see this every day, haha!"