Legendary American Tycoon

Chapter 25: Hosted at the door

Walking back to the apartment rented with Iverson, White took out a tissue, hesitated, and symbolically wiped the lip marks under his cheekbones twice.

After White wiped it, he placed the tissue in front of him and looked at it carefully several times.

The color of the lip print is deep red and bright, and the lipstick partially left on the paper towel is as bright as a touch of paint.

Litian's lips appeared before White's eyes.

These lips were slowly leaping towards him, suddenly the angle was deflected, and they flew straight down...

"Uh...what's the mess?" White rubbed his drunken head, tucked the napkin into the belt, and walked up the stairs.

I don't know if Iverson is there, sleeping? Still working?

Iverson recently had a shift job.

As usual, White jumped across the black-and-blank corridor, and came all the way to the door. He shook his trouser pocket and took out the key.

White was about to open the door when something suddenly moved and made a "click".

Sounds like the sound of a box falling to the ground? Cat? White thought to himself that there have been a lot of wild cats around here recently.

But when he was about to take a closer look, the rustling sound that had been rustling stopped suddenly.

In the entire space, only the sound of White's breathing fell together.

The sound of the box and the rustling sound, like White's hallucinations, disappeared in an instant.

Is someone pretending to be a fool?

White was more inclined to this situation, and suddenly thought of a possibility.

Thief?

In this poor place, the thief was unlucky and chose such a place.

With that said, White's heart became tense, and the heart in his chest was pounding.

If you are a thief, you should be more vigilant. Both are in the dark, as long as I don't make a sound, he can't see me. White thought. He still didn't think that a thief who could make such a deafening sound had the IQ with night vision goggles.

White slowed down and moved slowly by touching the wall while relying on his knowledge of the place. The bad thing about White is that the phone is out of power and nothing can be used. He can only feel it with his physical senses.

Beside his ears, except for the heartbeat that only he could hear on his chest, only the wind blowing in from the small windows between the corridors was whistling.

In front of me, it was pitch black and I could see nothing.

Tactile, relying on ordinary memories, try to walk where there are as few clutter as possible.

By the way... sundries.

box? It should be the beer box thrown outside with Iverson the other day.

Would a thief hide there so stupidly? Do nothing?

White thought, suddenly heard a miserable whimper floating in his ears, he was taken aback, and he subconsciously jumped to the side, his body already unconsciously facing the door of the apartment.

The key ring was squeezed in his hand, already wet with sweat from the palm of his hand.

In the middle of the night, there was a grievance crying case at the door of the apartment...

The more White thought about it, the more he felt that something was wrong in his whole body, and the cold wind was pouring in from the cuffs, while he was agitated, he slowly inserted the key into the keyhole.

Although he felt his scalp numb, his actions were still swift and swift. After a short while, the key was inserted into the keyhole, and White was about to open the door to break in, and the cry behind him drifted sadly.

"White..."

I relied on... the ghost to speak?

White burst into a foul language at the bottom of his heart, but he quickly realized that the other party called his name. I can't tell who it is from the sound for the time being, but I can be sure that it is neither a ghost nor a thief.

White quickly judged where the person was from the direction of the sound.

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What makes White wonder is, why doesn't this person stand up directly, must be so yin and yang?

Although White's name was clearly called out, White was still suspicious, moving slowly while paying attention to the surrounding movement, with both ears erected to the maximum.

Must not be a good person...

White thought to himself, waved his hand suddenly and opened a box.

As a result, what was stunned was White who originally wanted to give the other party a surprise.

There are still boxes behind this box, layer after layer of boxes.

White couldn't see it, but could feel it, and thought furiously that it must be the guy Iverson threw it. While calming my mind, I thought I could just speak up.

White said loudly: "I am White. Who are you? Please come out if you have something."

At first there was still nothing, but after a while, as if he had heard his voice and received confirmation, the person who pretended to be a ghost finally walked out from behind the corner of the wall.

He was dressed in white, his face was pale, and his figure was thin.

"Damn! It's a ghost..."

White ran back quickly, without looking back, closing the door with a bang.

"..."

"..."

On the T-shaped sofa in the apartment, a girl with disheveled hair nestled in a quilt, having a runny nose while eating potato chips.

She looked frozen to death and couldn't forget to eat, White looked and looked again, finally couldn't help but speak.

"Evelyn, did you just come back from an escape?" White said, rejecting the potato chips Evelyn handed over.

"The escape is a bit exaggerated, but I'm about the same as this." Evelyn said, "I was driven out by the modeling agency."

White was putting away the potato chip crumbs under the table, dozing off. When he was very sleepy, when Evelyn said such a sentence, the doze suddenly disappeared.

White stopped his movements, looked at Evelyn, and asked, "What's the matter?"

"I had a fight with the boss. I wanted to report him for sexual harassment, but I was scolded and kicked out." Evelyn described lightly.

"Sexual harassment?" White's eyebrows twitched.

In front of his eyes appeared a middle-aged wretched uncle, an unbearable picture of a young woman's hands.

Thinking of this, White couldn't help casting a comforting look at Evelyn.

"Don't look at me like that. It's not what you think." Evelyn finished a bag of potato chips, licked her fingers, and continued, "The company took an underwear ad and sent me to shoot. I After I was dressed, the boss who had been on the sidelines unexpectedly emerged. I couldn't bear it, and wanted to sue him out of anger."

"..."

"I have to mention my generosity here. White, look, my boss has nasty thoughts towards me, and even drove me out like a stray dog. But I suddenly relieved, forget it. , Don't care about middle-aged people like him." Evelyn spread her hands and said.

"...Seriously, this is not harassment, right?"

"You know a rooster."

"...Yes, yes." White helped his forehead helplessly.

When Evelyn asked White for the second packet of potato chips, White finally couldn't bear it: "Have you forgotten to keep in shape? Eat so much at night, be careful to fat you."

Evelyn was taken aback, slumped on her arm, and muffled: "I'm not a model anymore, still care about this?"

White was heartbroken: "That's not what I said. You ate the snacks for me and Iverson for a few days. What will we eat afterwards?"

Evelyn listened, pondered for a moment, and suddenly jumped from the sofa.

Evelyn's two legs were smooth and white, bare in the air at the moment, slender and slender.

"Well, you keep me here. I can help with cooking, really. I will take care of all the housework in the future." Evelyn said with bright eyes.

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