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Chapter 9 Humble

  • —Why are you doing all this to me?
  • —Doing what?
  • —Stop pretending you don't know.
  • —Do you really think I'm doing something to you? —sigh and practice good sentar. -That boy is the only one who can help you now, Duscha, his intellectual abilities are above average and I could say you'll get along well with him.
  • —Well, you say? -he laughs out loud and paces back and forth talking to himself. -For God's sake! That damn booger is spoiled rotten.
  • —Oh, but look who's talking. —he looks her up and down. —What a cheeky girl you are, besides, that's not true, the only spoiled brat here is you.
  • He calmly points at the young woman and then stirs her plate of Butajiru or soup with pork and vegetables. She enjoys a good spoonful and serving of meat, before the dish goes flying to her side at the hands of the irritable Petya Ivanov. Just as he had predicted, the plate flew out and met the woman's angry eyes. Watching her calmly, waiting for her words, Hiroshi takes a sip of sake and then clears his throat to look at her again.
  • —Do you think this is a game? —she asks to the point of losing her sanity. —Tell me please, this is a joke. If I wanted her to understand that I should be more respectful, well I get it, I understand, seriously you don't have to do this anymore. I...
  • —No.
  • —What? —she laughs lightly.
  • —This is no joke, the boy is your only option and it's the only option I'm giving you. If you dare to go to other clans to ask for his "help" he assures you that they won't hesitate to do something against you. I don't even advise you to trust the father, your best friend right now. —he frowns and clicks his tongue. —Oh, and no, you haven't learned anything, don't lie. —he raises his index finger, making the young woman swallow his words. Clearly, she was in his territory, she couldn't do much besides insult him. —Don't you dare to speak badly to me, don't you dare to come back with that arrogant face of yours, because I assure you... —he looks her in the eye. —...That you won't be able to gain the boy's trust in that position. Now... Get the hell out of my house.
  • Enraged, she storms out of the compound, stamping her feet, kicking her flower pots and other objects out of place. "Temper tantrums," thinks the man, unmoved by the green-eyed young woman's actions. Between cursing and shouting into the air, he finishes his exit from the place. He stops in the middle of the street, in the middle of the day and takes a deep breath, trying to understand the situation, "What's going on? Everything is out of control... Out of my control...", she thinks emotionally exhausted and squats down in the middle of the place. Fortunately, it is a gated residence and there are usually no cars pulling in to park in their respective garages at that hour. She stands up, now calmer.
  • —Miss. —A teary eyed boy approaches the young woman who looks around waiting for his parents to come out and pick him up. —Miss, can you help me? —The boy suddenly starts sobbing. "God... They'll think I did it," she thinks in despair.
  • —Calm down... What's wrong? —she reaches out to the boy and touches his head uncertainly.
  • —It's just that there's a little dog, he's mine, I think he's very sick, I don't know what to do. —he sobbed.
  • —Shhh, wait, quiet. —she looks around again. —Where is he? Take me with you and we'll see if we can help him, okay? —she smiles a little nervous about the situation.
  • —Okay.
  • The boy's eyes suddenly sparkle and he runs, calling her with his hand, Duscha follows the boy to an amazing backyard. The boy kept walking until he entered a hole where, fortunately, the blonde's big body could fit. Between scrapes and some scratches he arrived at a small and comfortable den, clearly belonging to the child, "They will leave him home alone for so long," she thinks feeling uneasy.
  • —Madam, look. —The boy carefully arrives and in his arms was a puppy, Labrador, weak and certainly sad. —It's really bad, isn't it? —his eyes fill with tears on the verge of sobbing. Duscha opens her mouth to tell him the truth, but retracts when she sees the child in such a state of sadness.
  • —No, he's not, he's just a little sick, have you ever been sick? —she takes the puppy in her hands carefully and cuddles it in her hands. She looks at the boy and smiles softly as she sees the boy nod enthusiastically. —Well, when we get sick, what do we do?
  • —We take medicine and get help?
  • —Exactly, very well, that's right. -The boy smiles in response and wipes away his tears. -Then if you want I can take him with me to get him some medicine and when he's well, I'll bring him back, do you agree?
  • —… —he looks at the unsure boy and nods, making the decision to let them take care of him. —All right.
  • —So. —she stands up fully and carefully settles the puppy in her arms. —I'll go, quickly, so he can be cared for and healed. Then you can play with him.
  • —Do you promise?
  • —Yes, I promise. —looking fixedly into the child's eyes, he nods, inspiring security in the child. Security. —So, I'm going now. I'll see you. Remember to tell your parents okay. —The boy nods quickly. She turns around, but stops herself from turning around. —Child, look. —she leans over to hand him a card with the number on it. —If your parents tell you that you can't have the puppy, call me as soon as you can, okay? —The creature takes the card and holds it in both hands, nods and smiles, making young Duscha nostalgic. —Remembers to eat.
  • —Yes, my nanny is preparing food, she knows about Lisovik. —Petya opens her eyes in surprise and coughs slightly when she hears the animal's name.
  • —What's his name?
  • —Lisovik. —he says sweetly, clasping his hands together, excited. —My nanny told me a story about a forest guardian.
  • —Oh... I see. —she nods. —I'll go now, remember to eat well or else I'll be very angry.
  • —Yes, ma'am. —he runs into the house, but not before waving good bye.
  • —God... —she sighs and looks at the puppy. —Come on, Lisovik. —she laughs silently without being able to resist it.