NovelEnglishThe two men kept calm but were both on alert.
Ivan stopped mid-step and looked back. He said affirmatively, “Wait forin the living room. I'll cdownstairs in less than 30 minutes.” Then he went upstairs.
Thirty minutes sounded like an essential point. The two men wondered if Ivan was hinting at something.
Ivan thought he would hang on for half an hour even if there was something in the wines.
His men didn’t insist on following him. They checked the tin unison and remembered his reminder.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThe design and decoration of the second floor looked perfect. Ivan was taken to a room that was far away from the staircase.
The maid knocked on the door and reported, “Excuse me, Lady Emily. Mr. Marsh has drunk up all the wines. He's at the door now.” The door was opened, and a young maid bowed at Ivan politely. “Please cin, Mr. Marsh.” However, she left the room.
The door was open. Ivan could tell it was a big room with romantic decorations.
He entered, stepping on the costly carpet. A faint fragrance of a woman's perffilled the air.
As he walked, he saw the girl sitting on the bed.
Her blond hair hung over her shoulders. She was holding a Bible and wearing a white lace long-sleeved gown. Upon hearing his footsteps, she looked over at him, her eyes as blue as sapphires.
Right then, the bedroom door was gently closed.
Ivan looked back without remarking. When he withdrew his gaze, he found Emily calmly gazing at him without blinking.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Marsh.” Her voice wasn't loud but hoarse. Seemingly something was wrong with her vocal cords.
Ivan approached her and stopped before the bed. “Lady Emily, right?” he asked gentlemanly.
After drinking her fruit wines, he hadn't felt anything abnormal, but he was still alert.
“Yes, | am,” the girl answered with a smile, and her voice lowered.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmIvan asked, “What's wrong with your vocal cords?” “Please sit closer. Or you won't hear me,” Emily said to him, seemingly with difficulty. Covering her neck, she added, “You can sit on my bed edge.” Something flashed through Ivan’s eyes.
Covered by a pink quilt, Emily looked at him calmly. “What do you want to know? You only have five minutes because | can't talk too long.” Ivan nodded. He also didn’t want to talk to her with difficulty, so he sat on the bed edge.
Looking into her eyes, he asked gently, “You are Mr. Johansen’s daughter. He's an outstanding jewelry designer, so he must have recorded every piece he designed, right?” “Of course.” Emily smiled while looking into his eyes. Deliberately lowering her voice, she added, “I'm his only daughter, so I've inherited all his relics, including his notebook.” A bright light flashed through Ivan’s intense eyes. That was the information he wanted.
“Where is the notebook?” They locked eyes. Emily’s smile becbroader. “Ccloser,” she requested hoarsely.
Ivan leaned forward, wishing to see the note as soon as possible. “May | borrow it, Lady Emily?” “Close your eyes,” Emily muttered, a shrewdness flashing through her eyes.
Ivan looked at her hesitantly.
“I only want to look at you closer,” she said bluntly, “I want to study the man who has driven countless women crazy.” “Haven't you seenalready?” “I want to see you close your eyes.” Emily chuckled, “Mr. Marsh, it's a simple request. You will agree, won't you?” Ivan didn’t want to annoy her, so he closed his eyes, breathing evenly.
Emily studied his face. He looked aloof and solemn, his face rock-hard. However, her heart hammered.
She leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “The notebook is in England.” Ivan opened his eyes, only to find Emily almost clung to him.
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