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... p>

Ah ... it's bleeding ...

I think it hurts!

"The skills of your loved ones really need to be improved. I really don't think which woman you can give a good night."

Winston turned his face to the side and stretched the lines of his neck. On the side, Hunter saw a small red mark.

"This ... is this my dear?"

"Do you think this is my own kiss?"

Winston's lips had an almost imperceptible smile, but his voice was so cold.

Hunter suddenly felt guilt ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

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