The beautiful wife of the president

Chapter 7 Mr. Ji, 7 is not number 8 today

No surgery was scheduled, Zhanyan stayed in the office all afternoon, and before he knew it, it was getting dark outside the window. ( !. Zhanyan suddenly remembered the banquet that Ji Weiyang wanted her to attend. She got up in a hurry, her eyes suddenly went dark, and she managed to stand still after a few staggered steps.

Breakfast was a fool, I didn't eat lunch at all, my head was groggy, my stomach throbbed badly, and my heart hurt badly.She took out her mobile phone and dialed Ji Weiyang's number.

The phone rang a lot before it was connected, and a familiar, deep magnetic voice came from the other end, "What's the matter?" He asked.

"I, I may not be able to accompany you to the banquet."

There was a brief silence, and the sound of airflow echoed at both ends of the microphone. "What's the reason?"

"I'm not feeling well."

It was silent again, and then he hummed without emotion, and hung up the phone.

There was a beeping busy tone on the microphone, Zhanyan watched in a daze, then smiled wryly.She has long been used to his indifference. At the beginning, she would cry aggrievedly. Today, three years later, she doesn't even have the strength to cry.Zhanyan thought, if it was said that she was dead, he might react a bit.

After get off work, Zhanyan slowly took off her white coat, changed into a suspender skirt, and sat on a chair in a daze.Inexplicably, she was very resistant to going back to that icy cold home.Then, Du Xiaomo rushed in in a hurry, and forced her to accompany her to the bar.

When Zhanyan came home drunk, it was already twelve o'clock in the morning. She took out the key and entered the door without turning on the light. She walked along the wall towards the bedroom, moving freely in the darkness.For three years, 95 days and nights, she touched every corner of the house alone.

"Are you back?" A gloomy male voice suddenly came from the darkness, with a unique coldness.Without warning, it is indeed very frightening and creepy.

Zhanyan's body trembled, and he stopped subconsciously.Through the faint moonlight cast by the window, she saw a man in a dark gray suit on the flaxen sofa in the living room, blending perfectly with the darkness.His tall body sank into the sofa, and he lit a cigarette slowly. When the light flickered, Zhanyan saw that the shirt on his chest was undone with three buttons, and his muscular chest was looming.

Zhanyan leaned her body against the cold wall, she was very tired, and really didn't have the energy to deal with him.

The atmosphere suddenly fell into a deathly silence, she didn't speak, he was silent with him, like a silent contest between each other.In the end, Zhanyan was still not as calm as he was, and spoke first, with a mocking tone, "Mr. Ji, today is not number eight."

"This is my home," he replied, implying that whenever he came back, her door must always be open for him.

The corners of Zhanyan's lips raised slightly, with a sneer.Why on earth does he come and go whenever he wants, for him, this place is not a home, but a hotel, and she is a free bed companion.

"Then you can take care of yourself, I'm tired." After she finished speaking without emotion, she turned and walked towards the bedroom.

She stretched out her hand to turn the doorknob, and just as the door opened a gap, a force suddenly struck behind her, carrying an icy chill.She has been pressed against the door by a heavy body.

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