Chapter 18 Rome

In March, Rome is already full of green grass and singing birds. The night sky above the Mediterranean Sea is full of clouds and the passionate nightlife of Italians has just begun. The medieval Gothic buildings on the street extend tall into the depths of the sky. The noisy laughter overflows into every corner of the street through the dark green thick velvet curtains.

"Blue Iris" is a chain bar with great style and scale in the downtown area. The antique decoration style, colorful glass windows that seem to be transformed into abstract art and dim and blurred bar lights are intertwined. The modern and classical are blended together, full of the contradictory atmosphere of romance and barbarism.

"It's rare that Master Atobe came all the way to see me. It's really a honor."

"Mrs. Eleanor's salon is a stage that many people can only dream of, huh?"

Atobe Keigo raised his eyebrows, raised his hand and shook the wine glass in his hand towards the graceful bar owner in front of him, pulling out an evil and elegant arc.

Because of proper maintenance, Mrs. Eleanor Sforza, who was over fifty years old, was still beautiful and charming. She squinted her eyes and approached the beautiful female companion beside the young man. She looked back and forth, then patted Atobe's shoulder and blew a frivolous whistle that was not in line with her status: "The bride is very beautiful, young man!"

Atobe Keigo's honeymoon trip was about to end. In Rome, in addition to the necessary social activities, visiting this noble lady who had been widowed for many years was also one of the necessary schedules of this trip.

This woman, who was born in England in her early years, married a famous elderly rich man in Milan when she was young, and inherited her husband's family's wealth after her husband's death. In the following nearly twenty years, she moved to Rome and carelessly managed her own industry. At the same time, she was at ease in the glittering upper class society. The cruel rings of time have worn away the beauty of the girl in the past, but the charm of a mature woman has not diminished at all.

She and Atobe Keigo's mother, who died young, an elegant woman of British aristocratic descent, were close cousins.

Atobe rarely mentioned her mother. Terajima Yuki only saw the yellowed black-and-white photo of her in the main family's ancestral hall on the second day of her wedding. She should be an elegant and refined noble woman, with traces of mixed blood in her eyebrows and eyes, but the classical grace of the Kyoto ancestral hall is revealed in her bones, as if you can vaguely hear the soft and elegant Kyoto accent.

It's just a pity that she compared Atobe Keigo with him and couldn't find any similarities.

On the contrary, the aunt in front of her, who was not related by blood, had an unrestrained look in her eyebrows and eyes, which was even more unrestrained than the young and beautiful Italian girl on the street.

"That's natural, that's my vision." Atobe raised the corners of his lips as usual, and his dark gray eyes swept across the clean and refreshing nose of the woman behind him, and his low voice was a bit evil.

Youji pursed her lips slightly and spoke in tactful English: "You're too kind, ma'am."

"You can call me Eleanor, Keigo calls me that too." This was a beautiful woman with golden wavy hair and blue eyes. When she was young, she must have had many suitors. She smiled and patted her face, then turned away to entertain other guests. "Please don't be polite here. A night like this should belong to you young people."

Eleanor Sforza was a celebrity in the Roman social circle. "Blue Iris" was just one of her businesses. Running the bar herself might just be her interest, but it was undeniable that without the graceful charm of the proprietress, the appeal of "Blue Iris" would have been greatly reduced. 

"Your aunt must have been a beauty when she was young." You Ji looked at the graceful lady who shuttled between the men and women, and suddenly laughed softly, "Even now she is still popular." " 

Otherwise, how could the rich old man in Milan fall in love with her at first sight and leave all his wealth to her." Atobe chuckled, sat sideways at the bar, and elegantly picked up the tall glass. The graceful light of light blue flowed like water on the lines of his handsome features. His sexiness could be read from the eyes of the Italian girls who had passed by. "Although her ancestors have the blood of British nobles, her temperament is as warm as the roses in Florence." 

The beautiful woman next to him smiled, as if she wanted to say something, paused and finally gave up. 

He frowned quickly: "What do you want to say?" 

"Different from your mother?" 

So she stopped hiding it, and unexpectedly saw his face sank. 

The noisy and hot rock music in the bar filled the eardrums. 

Atobe put down the wine glass, and the delicate base knocked on the bar, making a crisp sound. 

"Do you want to know?" He suddenly raised an indescribable arc, and a trace of cold charm appeared under the colorful lights. He glanced at her lightly, took out a cigarette from his shirt pocket, opened and closed the lighter neatly, and ignited pale and beautiful smoke. "Atobe Kazumi, my mother, was originally a lady from the Ayakawa family in Kyoto. She joined the Atobe family because of a business marriage. It is said that the family power behind her brought a lot of help to my father at that time." " 

When she died, I was still studying in elementary school in the UK and was about to graduate. I was immediately taken back by my father to attend the funeral, and then I entered the junior high school of Hyotei. It is said that she passed away peacefully, and my father was always by her side." The man smiled lightly, clasped his fingertips and gently flicked off the ashes. The white dust fell into the ashtray, showing a gray and mocking color. 

"I think my uncle... no, my father treated her well." Youji lowered his eyelids and spoke ambiguously. 

Atobe chuckled, "Of course it's good, at least he never treated her badly." 

"Atobe..." 

"The old man has another woman in his heart, but he hides it very well." Atobe said nonchalantly, supporting his cheek with one hand, and inadvertently stroking the mole under his eye. "My mother is a smart person, she knows the limits, knows when to advance and retreat, and keeps her duty. The old man also respects her very much." 

"Respect each other like guests?" You Ji smiled dumbly. Do you think there are no regrets? 

The next sentence was strangled in her throat before it came out. 

He seemed to see her thoughts: "Isn't it good? Finding love in a family marriage is a false thing. If it really breaks up, Lingchuan Media will probably be destroyed by my father and there will be no name left. Mother was also a powerful figure back then, so she naturally considered it." 

After he finished speaking, the cigarette on his fingertips had been shortened by half, and the curling green smoke lingered on the man's slender and cold fingertips and drifted around. 

The woman's pretty eyebrows frowned, she stood up and stretched out her hand to stop him from bringing the cigarette butt to his lips, snatched the remaining part from his delicate joints and extinguished it in the glass jar. 

"Are you telling me?" She seemed to say casually, "What a pity, I'm alone now, I don't need to worry about so many things..." 

Before she finished speaking, her wrist felt a pain, he twisted her wrist, clasped the woman's slender fingers in his palm, twisted his sharp eyebrows, and locked his dark gray eyes on her, as if he was brewing something, with an undercurrent. 

Is she too smart or too sensitive? 

She frowned because of the pain, but her smile spread innocently: "What is this for, am I going to make a meaningless sacrifice?" 

He let her go and looked away, his voice had a cold metallic luster: "I understand." 

"Don't drink tonight, I'll get some drinks." She raised her lips slightly and walked towards the wine cabinet not far away. 

Atobe turned his eyes away quietly, the colorful lights cast an ambiguous color in his eyes, in a world where reality and illusion intertwined, temptation and counter-temptation, no one had ever opened up their hearts. 

"One Lemonade, Please!"

The waiter handed over the prepared lemonade. The bar was used to seeing passionate blondes, but rarely saw such an oriental woman, beautiful but with an indifferent and distant expression. She couldn't help but look at her for a few times.

She turned around without paying attention. Outside the high-necked white sweater, the hem of the black windbreaker lifted a slight arc.

"Hey, Lan, your luck is too good. Luck can't be monopolized by one person!"

Suddenly, a Western man whistled in the salon not far away. She looked in the direction of the sound. A man in a black coat stood up. His expression could not be seen clearly with sunglasses, but the light and shadow intertwined, but the man's handsome lips were vaguely pursed with a smile. He raised his hand and raised a stack of cash, and threw it on the coffee table. His voice was deep and rich, but very magnetic: "If you want it, take it." For

a while, whistles and applause sounded one after another, and it seemed that the air began to become fanatical.

The man took advantage of the commotion and walked here. He was tall, about fifty years old, but his steps were very agile.

He came to pay the bill, then brushed past her shoulder. In the flickering lights, she could vaguely make out the outline of his face. Although it was a European name, he had Asian facial features. She felt familiar with him.

The blurred fragments of memory collided and fought in the darkness, barely piecing together a broken image. She was stunned for a moment.

After a moment, she suddenly realized it, put down the cup in her hand and chased after him, her black windbreaker fluttering.

Atobe Keigo stood up suddenly, staring at the entrance of the bar, and glanced at Eleanor who came after him: "Who is that man?"

"Lane Lindsay, it is said that he was the best trader on Wall Street when he was young."

The shrill horn of the car sounded like lightning. Terajima Yuki stopped in the middle of the road, bent down and panted, eagerly searching the bright and bustling streets of Rome, but the other person was gone.

She stood up, raised her face to the wind, turned around weakly, but stumbled and fell into a solid embrace.

"What are you looking for, huh?" Atobe frowned, and the woman's panic was clearly reflected in his eyes.

"No... I might..." For a moment, she didn't know how to answer, "I just made a mistake..."

The lights on the passing cars illuminated her cheeks, which looked pale and dazzling. Atobe sighed, and stretched out his arms to take her into his arms, as if he had embraced a thin black cat.

"Go back." He raised his hand and snapped his fingers crisply. The black BMW stopped on the side of the road. Kabata Takahiro opened the door, and his iconic tall figure was unusually eye-catching.

The hotel they stayed in was not far away. A dozen minutes' drive away was the facade with classical decoration.

The red numbers on the electronic screen of the elevator jumped slowly. The two people stood in the small and confined space, and neither of them spoke.

Terajima Yuki leaned against the cold metal wall of the elevator, with his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker, his head lowered, and his hair on his forehead hung down in a mess, covering his slightly tired look.

"What did you see?" Atobe looked at her calmly.

"Nothing."

"Heh." The purple-gray-haired man snorted mockingly, leaned closer to her and lifted her face, his slender fingertips brushed her messy hair, hesitated for a moment, and then uttered two words lightly: "Hard-mouthed."

She had no way to refute, and only smiled innocently.

Pale expression, but it was true after all.

At that moment, Atobe was stunned for a moment, a strand of black hair flowed through the gap between his fingers like water, and the air suddenly became stagnant.

The elevator door opened suddenly, and she suddenly realized that she had escaped from the suppression of his tall figure, walked all the way to the depths of the corridor, and opened the VIP room door.

"Click--" the room card was pressed on the base on the wall, and the dim light in the entrance hall lit up. In an instant, someone suddenly grabbed her waist, and before she could even scream, she was shackled by him on the closed door.

"Why, you want to escape?" He laughed softly, his warm breath wandering around her nose, the mixed smell of cologne and red wine filled her world.

The dim light of the entrance flowed ambiguously on the clothesline and the floor.

"Atobe..."

She instinctively wanted to escape, but was locked in the narrow shackles by his eyes, until he pecked her lips lightly.

The cold and soft touch of the tip of his tongue, without any offensive invasion, just lingering along the line of her lips, as if savoring the fragrance of the rose-colored lip gloss, rubbing and caressing the slowly rising warm breath, and then slipping into her teeth when she was not prepared, the unique mixed smell of male cologne and tobacco filled her mouth.

Her mind was blank in an instant, and her hands were on his shoulders to resist his approach, but she was shackled deeper, her body was drained of strength, and the black half-length windbreaker slid down her arms to the ground, and the dim light gave it a light blue charming luster.

Their bodies pressed together through the clothes, and the rustling sound was like feathers falling to the ground.

He kissed along the side of her neck, buried his head in her shoulder and sucked the delicate collarbone of the woman, leaving a mark of immaturity. He slightly raised his eyelids, and his deep eyes were covered with a confused color. His hand around her waist had unconsciously lifted a corner of her clothes, and moved along her graceful curves inch by inch. The slightly raised butterfly bones, with beautiful and clear outlines, trembled slightly under his fingertips.

"Don't..." The cold air stung her skin, and the woman moaned alertly, trying to struggle. A slight ripple appeared in Keigo Atobe's eyes, and he suddenly sealed her lips, and the domineering breath broke in with ease, becoming more and more intense, and the heavy breathing drowned out her suppressed moans. Out of

control.

Even though he realized this, he still couldn't stop until the salty smell filled his mouth.

Atobe suddenly let go, and the woman in his arms struggled to get out, took a few steps away, held her messy collar with both hands, and looked at him with caution.

Atobe sneered, and it was hard to tell whether he was happy or angry.

"I really forgot that the black cat in my arms can bite people." He raised his hand and licked the slightly cracked lips with his fingertips. The one or two traces of blood were particularly charming under the dim light.

Terajima Yuuki stood in the backlight and looked at him coldly, with suppressed anger. After a long time, she bent down and picked up the windbreaker on the ground.

"I heard that the entertainment venues in Rome are in the old city."

She slowly walked to the bathroom, closed the door with a "bang", and Atobe Keigo's face twisted slightly.