Imprisoned Crown of Thorns

Han Sen seemed really really angry.

They have clearly planned to suspend those overly stimulating contacts, why would he do such a thing.

"Where's Han Sen?"

The next morning, Nietzsche woke up and found that he was the only one sleeping on the bed, and Han Sen and Han Xiu were not there.

Han Xiu should have been sent to some early education class or to do other things, but what about Han Sen?

Nietzsche looked around, his mind full of doubts.

The butler walked to Nietzsche's bed on time, and said respectfully:

"Mr. Nietzsche, Mr. Han has some things to go out today, you should have breakfast now."

"Don't eat!"

Nietzsche turned his head and glared at the butler. He lifted the quilt and planned to get out of bed. The butler immediately looked away. Nietzsche shrank back just as one foot touched the carpet. Frowning, "I don't know when Han Sen left."

"Mr. Nietzsche, Mr. Han left here at a quarter past six in the morning. He didn't wake you up because he was worried about disturbing your rest."

Nietzsche looked at the butler coldly:

"Don't lie to me, did your master go to see that damned woman again?!"

The housekeeper trembled, Nietzsche's temper is really bad now, and he really only pretended to be gentle in front of Han Sen, but he didn't dare to lie, "Mr. Nietzsche, Mr. Han did meet a lady , but you know..."

"To shut up!"

Nietzsche gritted his teeth and said:

"What good things can happen when a lonely man and a widow meet.".

Besides, Han Sen doesn't like men.Han Sen is a straight man.

Nietzsche turned his face sideways, turned his head to look at the garden outside the window, squeezed his fingers white, and pressed his lips tightly together, not knowing what to think, and after a long silence, he turned his head and said: "Okay, you Go out first, I need to get dressed."

The housekeeper nodded, turned around and walked out. When he went out, Han Sen's depressed face when he left the bedroom door in the morning appeared in his mind unconsciously.

The cliff is what Nietzsche did to make Han Sen unhappy.

Han Sen has always been a good-tempered person, which is well known to everyone.

Apart from Nietzsche, there was really no one who could make Han Sen angry.

Nietzsche took off his clothes and looked at his body carefully in front of the long-length mirror. The scars on his thighs were still there. He turned off the light last night. Fortunately, Han Sen didn't see them. The body looks so shocking that no one would believe that these things were done by Nietzsche himself.

In order to stay by Han Sen's side, he restrained a lot. To put it bluntly, Nietzsche always felt that Han Sen really didn't like his arrogant appearance. Nietzsche felt that another self would soon be split from his body.

Soon, Nietzsche was out of control.

Nietzsche clutched his heart, kneeling on the floor in pain, his nails hurting the injured place until his ten fingers were wet with blood.

The pain in the body makes people feel very comfortable.

Nietzsche thought so.

"Han Sen, I hate you."

Nicholas bit his lip hard, and soon his own lip was scarred.

The physical demands seemed to push Han Sen away from him.

It shouldn't be like that...it shouldn't be like that...

Nietzsche felt a sharp pain in his head, but on the contrary, he didn't feel any pain on his scarred legs.

"Mr. Nietzsche?..."

Nietzsche's voice had not been heard in the room for a long time. The housekeeper stood outside the bedroom door and knocked tentatively on the bedroom door.

"I am coming."

Nietzsche suddenly opened the door, wearing neat clothes, against the light, the housekeeper couldn't see the expression on Nietzsche's face at the moment, but felt that the dark room was lining up behind Nietzsche, which vaguely reminded the housekeeper of some kind of gorgeous and dark , with that indescribable, unclear feeling.

But there was a faint fishy-sweet smell rushing towards his face, the housekeeper still couldn't help but looked into the room suspiciously, there was nothing in it.

Nietzsche stared straight at the housekeeper, reached out and closed the door of his room suddenly, his body pressure was surprisingly low: "Where did Han Sen go?"

The butler blinked.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Nietzsche, Mr. Han definitely doesn't want you to leave here at this time..."

"Slap!" With a slap, Nietzsche slapped the butler expressionlessly, "Do you want to die?"

The butler, who hadn't been slapped by Nietzsche for a long time, blinked his big watery eyes, covered his face and said, "Ni, Mr. Nietzsche, Mr. Han is at Ms. Justin's place!

"Justin?"

Nietzsche read the name with undisguised disgust and contempt on his expression, "What does this woman do."

"Ms. Justin is currently the most famous PR (public relations) in Rome."

Nietzsche nodded, "Tell me the address where Han Sen is going, and then keep your mouth shut."

As if the irritable Nietzsche had finally returned many years ago, the butler could only nod submissively. Under the suppression of Nietzsche's power, the butler still betrayed his master Han Sen and chose to save himself temporarily.

The moment Nietzsche left the house, the butler looked at Nietzsche's graceful figure, his watery eyes, and uncontrollably shed two lines of clear tears.

It's not that I'm moved, but I feel that the future is once again bleak.

Really, he just wanted to be a good housekeeper.

But the reality is so dark, the ideal is so skinny, why everyone is so fragile.

I really don’t know how many years I haven’t driven by myself. When Nietzsche was 12 years old and still in middle school in a private noble school, the old Lutheran gave him a driver, but at this moment, he can’t take care of it anymore. Nietzsche drove out by himself. up.

After driving all the way to the city of Rome, Nietzsche saw Han Sen's car in front of the famous PR company that the butler mentioned.

Nietzsche lowered the car window, smelled the fresh air outside the window, raised one arm to support his cheek, and looked in the direction of the gate of the PR company.

"Sir, would you like a cigar?"

A cigar vendor came up to Nietzsche's window.

Nietzsche didn't know how long he hadn't smoked a cigarette. Ever since he lived with Han Sen, Han Sen banned Nietzsche from anything that might be addictive, especially cigarettes. Nietzsche almost forgot what it was like to have nicotine pass through his lungs.

"What kind of cigar is this?"

Nietzsche turned his face and glanced at the pompously dressed peddler

The peddler smiled at Nietzsche and whispered:

"Sir, smuggled, authentic Mexican cigars."

Mexican cigars are slender and long, with a strong taste. When they enter the lungs, they even have a slight spicy taste, without the mild aroma of Cuban cigars.

To be honest, the market for Mexican cigars is not very good.

People who smoke this kind of cigars have somewhat indescribably weird tempers.

Nietzsche raised his eyebrows and hooked his fingers at the peddler,

"come over."

The peddler quickly approached, and Nietzsche took out a cigar from the box he was sorting out, put it under his nose and sniffed it, and it turned out to be genuine.

"Help me cut one."

Nietzsche took one, took out the money from his wallet and gave it to the peddler. Then the peddler cut open the cigar and helped Nietzsche light the cigar with a smile.

Nietzsche held the cigar between his slender fingers, bit it in his mouth, and took a deep breath. The long-lost smell of tobacco made Nietzsche suddenly feel excited. Under the high-end slacks, sin and desire raised his head.

If Han Sen was here, Nietzsche would definitely shake Han Sen's car.

Not long after, Nietzsche saw Han Sen come out of the PR company's gate, followed by two security guards in suits and leather shoes.

That man was still wearing a formal black suit today, his black hair was combed up, and even his expression was meticulous, making him look neat and serious.

In fact, the weather has started to turn hot now, and Han Sen is wearing a bit too much. Nietzsche personally thinks that Han Sen doesn't need to wear so much.But Han Sen's dressing style obviously won't be settled just because the weather is getting hotter.

Norms are norms and cannot be changed arbitrarily.

Watching Han Sen walk down the steps step by step from a distance, Nietzsche quietly stared at Han Sen's dazzling face soaked in the bright sunlight, and could carefully see his own name on Han Sen's forehead, Even if someone stared at his forehead, Han Sen still felt calm.

Nietzsche was leaning on the driver's seat with his arms folded, with a slender Mexican cigar in his mouth, and the whole compartment was filled with a strange and pungent cigar smell.

Not aromatic at all.

The lungs had a faint pungent feeling, stimulating all of Nietzsche's senses in a short period of time.

Immediately afterwards, a woman seemed to be standing behind Han Sen and shouted.

Han Sen, who had already reached the bottom of the stairs, turned and looked up the stairs.

It was a very beautiful woman, wearing a high-end rose red silk shirt on her upper body, and a one-step skirt that women in the workplace often wear on her lower body. This classic style of skirt perfectly set off her slender legs.The woman has a sweet face, golden curly hair, blue as the sea and big eyes...

It looks simple and capable without losing the sweetness and gentleness of women.

Han Sen and the bodyguard behind him stopped, as if they were waiting for the woman.

Wearing red rattan high-heeled shoes, the woman walked downstairs quickly. When she walked in front of Han Sen, she accidentally twisted. Han Sen politely reached out to support her.

The woman stood up, raised her hand to brush her hair, and smiled sweetly at Han Sen.

Nietzsche clearly saw the smile on the corner of Han Sen's mouth. The Han Sen who belonged to him, the man who belonged to him, his eyes fell on this woman at the moment, and he smiled at her.

"Oh shit."

Nietzsche's car parked quietly at the corner of the street. Han Sen was standing with his back to the corner, so he couldn't find Nietzsche's side - in fact, Han Sen could recognize it as the car at home at a glance.

Nietzsche raised his fingers and pinched his chin, staring straight at what Han Sen said to the woman, then Han Sen politely opened the back of the car and let the woman named Justin sit in the car.

Han Sen himself got into the car from the other side. As soon as he got in the car, the car drove towards the center of downtown Rome.

Nietzsche watched Han Sen drive out, and then drove slowly behind him.

Always keeping a certain distance carefully, Nietzsche saw Han Sen's car stop in front of a gypsy's handmade jewelry store when he was half a block away.

Han Sen got out of the car with the woman and entered the jewelry store.

Nietzsche lowered the car window, threw the half cigar in his mouth out of the car window, and then closed the car window again.

This gypsy-owned master-level high-end custom jewelry store is surrounded by fully transparent see-through floor-to-ceiling windows.

There is only one jewelry store in the whole of Italy. Not all people can order jewelry and accessories from this jewelry store. Only a few men with status and status will order high-end jewelry from this jewelry store. Gift it to your loved ones.

Nietzsche clearly saw the jeweler wearing a black yarmulke come out from behind the counter, and handed over a blue velvet-wrapped jewelry box respectfully to Han Sen's hand.

This kind of jewelry box is specially used to hold necklaces. The woman leaned over, blinked her blue eyes, and looked up at Han Sen, who was [-] centimeters taller than her, with a very serious expression.

Probably men like to be looked up by women with heroic eyes.

Han Sen turned his head and didn't know what to say, the woman suddenly smiled happily, with a bright smile on her face.

Nietzsche looked at Han Sen with a faint smile on his face expressionlessly. He suddenly lowered his head and folded his arms on the steering wheel. He didn't know what to think, and he raised his head after a long time.

When Nietzsche raised his head from the steering wheel, Han Sen had already gone out, and the pretty woman followed closely beside Han Sen.

Nietzsche pursed his lips, silently took out a large-caliber gun from his compartment, and with a "click—" the bullet was loaded.

Nietzsche intends to kill that woman now.

Picking up the gun in his hand and pointing it at the woman, Nietzsche suddenly found that Han Sen's expression was always cheerful, probably because he was with this woman.

Nietzsche frowned, and slammed the gun in his hand into the carriage, holding his right hand with the other hand, controlling himself not to kill people.

"Sen..."

Nietzsche bit his lips in pain, and there was a sudden throbbing pain in his heart, even the pain on his lips couldn't get rid of it.

Nietzsche scanned the compartment and found a pen that Han Sen had used.

Nietzsche picked up the pen, took off the cap, pointed the tip of the pen at his wrist, and slashed down fiercely.

The pen tip is not as sharp as imagined, and it is difficult to hurt the veins and blood vessels on the wrist. It only cuts the skin and hurts those fragile veins, but a lot of blood still flows from the wrist.

"As long as the body hurts, the heart will not feel pain."

Nietzsche felt that it was not enough, he took the pen tip and drew four wounds on his wrist without hesitation, until his whole arm was bloody, Nietzsche finally felt his heart go numb.

Looking up in the rearview mirror, Nietzsche saw that his face was pale, with a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.