Billionaire’s Reborn Baby

Emily’s only impression of Vincent’s birthday was that her waist hurt.

She woke up until the evening of the next day. She dragged her body that seemed to have been squeezed by a large machine and managed to seat herself on the sofa, gasping and staring blankly at the ceiling.

“It looks like that you love the gift I gave you.” Christy rubbed her shoulders.

Emily was too tired to speak. She turned back and looked at Christy with a harmless stare.

Emma, Sydnee, and the others had rushed back to City Y early this morning. Emily felt sorry that she didn’t get up to send them off. When she picked up her phone and found that it was already the evening of the next day. She suddenly felt sad.

Emily thought that she should make an agreement with Vincent that he shouldn’t sleep in the bedroom except on weekends and the day before!

“By the way, can you give me the painting in your studio as a gift?” Christy asked.

As Emily had difficulties walking around, Christy got out the framed picture from the studio by herself. When Christy came out, she saw a picture of Harold hanging on the innermost wall. A tall and burly figure was standing in the sun, loyal and solemn, even with a wooden face.

This painting was different from the others. Instead of Emily’s, Harold’s signature was written in the bottom right corner.

Christy sighed and walked out with the painting in her arms.

Ferne was still working on the hotel decoration and called Vincent over. There were only two guards at home, squatting in the corner, eating ice cream, and enjoying the air conditioning. They were probably worried that Emily would be afraid of being alone in the room, so they called Christy over.

Christy thought that Emily may wake up until eleven o’clock. Who knew that she would sleep for so long? Christy had checked the painting of Trevor about four times until Emily finally woke up.

chance to

shirt, his eyes clear and clean. He was standing there and looking up at the painting on the wall, on which there was a woman

It was a painting-within-a-painting.

for

Christy came over to massage

so she called

tongue and

was lost for

saw the two women on

with her hair messed up, he could not help but loosen the top two buttons

followed closely behind could not help but take out

What did Mr. Vincent eat

and

I guess it must be Mutton soup

eating ice cream:

the class, she found that something had

time you ask for leave, something must

her schoolbag and asked,

the class. It seemed that the others hadn’t come to class for a

pay for it.” Tatiana shrugged, “Those in our class who haven’t gone to clean up don’t want to take the responsibility at all. They said that whoever broke

someone in our class break it?” Emily