Shelly was choked by Matthew Grant’s words and her smile froze at the corner of her mouth, not knowing how to respond.
Blanca Roach was thinking of staying in bed for a while longer, but just before she closed her eyes she vaguely heard the sound of conversation downstairs, as if there was a woman.
Her instincts told her that this “visitor” was not an easy one, so she slipped out of the room, wearing one of Matthew Grant’s shirts next to her bed.
Matthew Grant was already much taller than her, so the shirt covered her hips just enough to pass for a nightgown.
Blanca Roach had just slipped catty-corner to the stairway, thinking to peek in on the conversation between the two, when Shelly caught a glimpse.
Shelly’s pupils trembled for a moment, then clenched the edge of the sofa, fingertips are using force.
The woman was upstairs in Matthew Grant’s private villa, wearing what was obviously a man’s shirt, stealing ambiguity everywhere.
The tentativeness and caution of a moment ago turned into aggravation and embarrassment, and his eyes went red for a moment as he questioned out loud.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
Matthew Grant followed Shelly’s gaze at the figure upstairs, a trace of teasing crossed his eyes, pursed his thin lips, and did not deny it.
“Matthew, all these years I’ve been alone abroad, it’s all because of thinking of you that I’ve been able to pull through, I really didn’t think you already had a girlfriend! It seems that I came to the wrong place today!”
Shelly changed her decent elegance just now and shouted out of breath with red eyes.
Blanca Roach frowned, and alarm bells went off in her heart.
This person is not a guest at all, this is to dig her out!
She immediately walked down the stairs, elegant posture, the corners of her mouth hooked just the right smile, standing in front of Shelly, a hostess stance, slowly speak.
“This young lady, I think you are mistaken, I am not Matthew Grant’s girlfriend, I am his wife, the children are born, perhaps you can call me Mrs. Grant.”
Mrs. Grant, Matthew Grant is really married?
Shelly blushed, the hand hanging at her side clenched tightly, glancing over at the woman in front of her, jealousy in her eyes.
Matthew Grant heard his Blanca Roach swear sovereignty words, lips slightly raised, rose up and swept her into his arms, raised his eyes to look at the opposite person.
“This is my wife, once I just think of you as a friend, I hope to meet someone better in the future.”
The tone of voice does not carry a trace of emotion inside, oligarchic and detached.
The straightforward awareness inside the words made Shelly’s movement stiffen, but then she regained her decent appearance just now, smiling gently with a reasonable look.
“I know you’re doing well is fine, wish you all happiness, I’ll leave now.”
“Thank you, take care.” Blanca Roach smiled lightly and sounded polite.
Shelly took her bag and turned to leave, her face instantly collapsed, her eyes filled with jealousy and hatred.
If she hadn’t been tied up abroad in the middle of the day, she wouldn’t have been able to let this woman step in, and now the real Mrs. Grant would be hers!
The future is long, she will never stop here, so what if there are children? So what if she had kids? She could have them too!
Blanca Roach watched her disappear in the doorway, her face darkened, reached out and pushed the person at her side away from her and sat down on the couch.
“Matthew, your peach blossoms are really flourishing, they are blooming in front of your home.”
The words reeked of acidity.
Matthew Grant’s face crossed with an invisible smile, sitting next to Blanca Roach and hugging her in a full embrace, his head on one shoulder, and spoke in a low voice.
“She’s my college friend, it’s been years, I’d forgotten about her, we both never had anything.”
The low magnetic voice nestled with heat in Blanca Roach’s ear, causing her heart to flutter, but she moved to the side and grunted.
“But she’s come to the door … Matthew Grant what are you doing!”
Matthew Grant, with a smile in his eyes, picked the person up directly across the room, took three steps up the stairs, and kicked open the bedroom door.
“Since madam is still angry, of course I have to ‘comfort’ her properly.”