Chapter 1157 No Entrance To Delcord

• Another shriek cut down from the second floor—Zidane again, the note edged with comic misery.
• Samson flashed a wolfish grin. “Who’d have guessed? Abigail looks gentle most days, but when she strikes, she strikes hard.”
• Angelina’s soft laugh lingered. “That, gentlemen, is called the art of husband-taming. Tell me, Aiden, when you stepped out earlier, were your eyes glued to every long pair of legs that walked by?”