Читать книгу Palmist. Books 1,2,3 онлайн

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Arthur arrived at the specified address. The driver stayed in the car, he and Jamal entered the room. These were garages, and no one was here at this time of day. They were alone. A police car was parked nearby. Amir did not have his own car until today. His father was going to give him such a gift, but postponed it for later, considering that, it was too early for Amir to travel around Moscow. Seeing the police, Arthur’s heart trembled. He was afraid that these were his last days at large. But most of all he was afraid for the life of his woman. It was such a strong attachment that Arthur could not imagine himself without it. Maybe it was a sense of ownership, or maybe it was really love, but he was melting all over next to her. The people around him could not get used to this change in his behavior, and they respected the Wine.

The iron door creaked and, stepping over the threshold, the door slammed shut with a sound. The lighting was weak, but Arthur’s gaze immediately fell on the Wine sitting on the chair. It was the same picture as in the morning, only now there was Wine sitting on the chair. Her eyes were tear-stained, and she was afraid to look at Arthur. She understood the current situation, that with her help, they would manage him. And that made it even more painful for her. The guilt was ready to die.