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Early the next morning, Ynda drove ton’s ce. She banged on the old door for ages, no one answered. Just as she reached for her phone to call him, the door creaked open.
Ian was in a ck T–shirt, one cheek swollen red–like he’d taken a punch.
Ynda’s brows shot up. She scanned the messy yard, spotting signs of a fight everywhere. <b>“</b>What happened?” she asked.
Ian’s charming eyes glistened, like he was holding back tears. “I’m fine.”
Ynda took a sharp breath, grabbed his arm, and hauled him inside.
but
When she’d visited yesterday, the ce was tiny but neat. But now, it was a total disaster. Every single piece of furniture was flipped, the only cupy shattered in pieces<b>–</b>nothing was left intact.
Ynda’s face went dark. Since Ian wasn’t gonna talk, she turned for the door.
Ian hesitated and then blurted out, “Some strangers showed upst night. I don’t know who they were.” He rushed the words, as if she’d walk out if he slowed down.
Ynda stopped and turned back to him. Sweat beaded on his forehead–his injuries must be worse than he let on. She propped up the sofa and said softly, “Sit. Let me check.”
Ian froze, and then slowly sat down.
Ynda lifted his shirt, exposing his chest. There were wounds, but what really caught her eye was his chiseled abs, the perfect V–line, his broad shoulders, and lean waist–he could easily pass for a fitness model.
Her fingertips felt a sudden tingle, and only then did she realize her move was a little out of line.
Ian bit his lip, his ears burning red. Finally, he gave up and turned away, clutching the hem of his shirt–like he’d just been taken advantage of.
Ynda cleared her throat, locked her gaze on the bruises dotting his chest, and forced herself to stay calm.
“Anywhere else hurt?” she asked, pressing gently on the bruises and ncing up. “Did they crack <i>a </i>rib?”
Jan sucked in a breath, yanking his shirt down harder. “No.”
<b>11:34 </b>Wed, Sep <b>10 </b>
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Ynda let out a relieved sigh. She stood up and said, “Pack your stuff. We’re moving today. You can’t stay here anymore.”
“I got you a ce–a nice vi, good security. Even when you be famous, you’ll be safe there. At the very least, you won’t have to deal with stuff like being followed or getting into fights,” Ynda replied.
Ian hesitated a beat before asking softly, “Won’t your husband get mad?”
Ynda paused, taking a second to process it, and then realized he’d misunderstood. Sheughed, finding him kind of cute for some reason.
“It’s not my husband’s,” she exined. “It’s my brother’s. He looks tough, but he’s good to me. Besides, he’s got so many houses–he couldn’t care less about this one.”
Ian looked down and stood up. “Got it.”.
Ynda watched his back, sighing quietly. <fn9361> Newest update provided by f?i?n?d?n?o?v?e?l?</fn9361>
Ian didn’t have much to pack. Just ten minutester, he emerged with a backpack and a small suitcase.
His hair was a bit messy, and his arm muscles flexed subtly as he carried his backpack. His eyes were captivating, set in a face that spelled trouble–handsome enough to spark conflict and settle it with just a nce.
After he got in the car, Ynda drove to the vi.
It was in a prime spot, right in the heart of Beloris<b>–</b>super valuable. Samuel must’ve put thought into picking this when he gave her the keys.
The vi was beautifully designed, with two stories and a well–manicured garden. Samuel had someone fix it up beforehand, clearly,
Ynda loved the setting. “Come here,” she said. “I’ll add both our fingerprints to the system, so we can put the keys away for good.”
Jan set down his backpack, took off his hat, and walked over.
Ynda scanned her fingerprint first, then grabbed his finger to add his. Once they were done, a voice prompt confirmed both owners‘ fingerprints were sessfully registered.
<b>11:34 </b><b>Wed</b><b>, </b>Sep 10
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Ynda winced a little–that voice prompt sounded kinda suggestive. She took a deep breath, pushing away the strange thoughts creeping into her mind.
“Ian,” she called, keeping her voice steady. “You like boxing, right? I’ll grab a heavy bag and pro gloves. Pick any room and make it your mini gym.”
The vi had plenty of space. He’d be alone here, free to do whatever he wanted.
“Ynda,” he called out suddenly.
It caught her off guard. “Hmm?” she replied, realizing it was the first time he’d called her by her first name.
“I’ll buy my own. Keep your money.”
‘Is he trying to save me money? Never figured someone so quiet could be this thoughtful, Ynda thought. For a second, she didn’t know what to say.
Now she understood why guys went crazy when a girl looked out for their wallet. Such souls were so pure that the others just couldn’t help but be kind to them.
On a whim, Ynda pulled out her phone and ordered a few pairs of boxing gloves and a heavy–duty punching bag.
Then she turned to Ian. “They’ll deliver this afternoon. You can set them up. Filming starts the day after tomorrow, so heal up fast. And you should’ve called mest night.”
As she spoke, she pulled out her phone to check messages and saw one from Sean: [Is your talent in trouble? Heard some gossip this morning–Mr. Sinir stepped in for Sophie.]
Ynda’d had a hunch, and now it was confirmed. Anger flickered in her chest. She turned to Ian, her voice sharp with suspicion. “You know who did thisst night?”
Jan stayed silent. He dropped his gaze, quietly sorting through his stuff.
Looks like those guys introduced themselvesst night,‘ Ynda thought. She fixed her gaze onn, her voice serious. n, whatever happens, you have to tell me. If you keep this up, I’ll be really mad.”
Jan looked up at her, whispering, “I don’t want to put you in a tough spot.” Then he dropped <b>his </b>gaze and went back to organizing his things.
Tan’s way too touchy. He probably sensed how rocky things were between me and Charles. He was worried that if I found out Charles was behind all this. I’d lose it and our already shaky marriage would fall apart, Ynda thought, understanding.
“Listen,” she said, her voice firm, “you might end up being my cash cow someday. Charles is
<b>11:34 </b>Wed, Sep 10
not half as important as you.”
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EX 55 vouchers <pn’s fingers froze for a split second. Something shed in his eyes–gone too fast to read. Then he mumbled, “Got it.”