You Hit My Heart (Joyce and Luther) novel Chapter 1283

She looked at him with amusement.

This man, sometimes like a child, needs coaxing.

"I'm going up." She emphasized.

"Hmm." He finally let go of her face, his face still not looking too good.

Joyce couldn't think of anything more to say and hurried into the Emperor Hotel.

When you get upstairs, room 8808.

The door to the suite was open, and just as I approached, I smelled a strong odor of alcol.

Joyce's long eyebrows wrinkled into a Sichuan character, speeding up her steps to approach the suite.

Bobby had never met Joyce in person, but having seen the photos posted online, he recognized them immediately.

"Ms. Knowles, you're finally here, thanks so much."

Joyce frowned, looking inside the suite living room, there are bottles everywhere, a glance over, there are seven or eight red wine bottles lying across the floor.

Crazy simply, he actually drank so much alcol. Not to mention that the stomach can not bear, will cause alcol poisoning.

She saw Justin sitting slumped on the floor, leaning against the couch, his back to her.

She hurried up to him and turned him around.

The strong smell of alcol hit her nose and almost choked her.

And he, originally a handsome and elegant face, now his face is red, like allergies, covered with a fine red rash, a pair of bright eyes dull, dull look at her.

Like they were unsure, and like they thought they were looking at it wrong.

He smiled to himself, "Joyce, am I dreaming? I can't believe you came to see me, four years, I miss you and think of you, four years, I'm hallucinating, huh huh."

He picked up the bottle and was just about to take another drink.

Joyce slapped the bottle out of his hand, "You're not dreaming, it's me, I'm Joyce, you need to stop drinking."

It was he, who put the powder in her red wine to make her lose her ability to resist.

He looked at her and collapsed helplessly on the couch, but watched coldly.

It was he, himself, who sent him into the hands of Otis, the devil, and for a whole night he dreaded to think what she had been through.

He made all of these by hand.

Once thought that everything he did was to avenge her.

But who knew that everything he ended up doing was to personally bury the last bit of love between him and her.

How could he have the face to see her?

"You go, you go!" He turned his back in embarrassment, and his shoulders kept trembling.

He simply does not have the face to see her, in this life, it is better not to see.