His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

101 Your Bra

Daley said he needed to go to Las Vegas and lobby several neutral family members to support him. He will probably be away for a few days. He wants me to go with him. Although he told me to think of it as a short trip, I knew he wanted me there to better convince the rest of the family. Even if he did not speak out, those in the middle would have guessed that he had the support of the Green family.

I politely declined his request because I wasn't sure what was going on between my father and him. I had always been wary of the alliance between the Green and Logan families, and my father hated me so much that he would not let me off so easily.

I told Daley that Liv would bring me the flash drive soon. I'd better wait for her at home before she comes back. Daley agreed with my decision. I stayed in the manor all the time after he left. My gut tells me it's best not to go out, even if Daley leaves me with a chauffeur and a bodyguard. Given the present situation, I think it is safest to stay in the manor.

I spent the morning searching the internet for information about the alleged murder, but all the information seemed to have been purposely deleted. Normally, if the police post information about a person wanted, we can find the relevant information on the internet, but I searched all the police websites and I can not find any information about me.

It's strange. Did my father really decide to drop the charges against me? But if I killed Lydia, how could he drop the charges so easily? What evidence does Mikeal have that proves I killed Lydia?

Just as I was about to turn off my computer, an unfamiliar name popped into my mind.

'Mickle Blanton. That's your father's name.'

Before I was sold to pudding, Mikeal told me the name of my biological father. I thought Jorah said he was a general. If he is an officer in the United States Army, his information can be found on the official website.

Should I look into this Mickle guy? I had never tried to find him before.

What if he's forgotten my mother, or he doesn't care if he has a daughter? If he were just a bad man who treated my mother like a plaything, he'd be on my death list, too.

I typed the name Mickle Blanton into the computer's search engine with some trepidation. For a few seconds as the page loaded, I held my hands tightly. I am afraid that the results of the query are not what I want to know.

A man in a military uniform with gray hair appeared on the page. His identification said that he was a colonel in the United States Army who had served in the Iraq War and was currently retired. There is no internet access to his specific place of residence or to his family members. The only relevant news available online is that Mickle Blanton met with the Mexican ambassador on behalf of the military more than 20 years ago.

This man is rarely seen in the media. But at least I know this man, Mickle, is in the states. But is he really my father? Should I go to him?

I was conflicted. After all, he was the only family I had in the world. Maybe I should go see him. But now I can't just go to him and tell him that I might be his daughter. He's gonna think I'm crazy.

There will be a chance to see him. I said to myself.

So I shut off the computer and went to the balcony. It's sunny and breezy today. I glanced down and saw a few blue-hatted workers pruning the grass in the garden. Vickie was in a wheelchair, and her footman was wheeling her around the garden.

At this time, my eyes moved to the direction of the swimming pool. The sun shone on the surface of the pool, which seemed to glow with silver. Then I remembered that I hadn't been swimming for a long time. Maybe I should take the time to relax.

When I got to the pool, I found that I hadn't prepared a bathing suit at all. So I looked around and there was no one near the pool. Perhaps the pool was overlooked because Vickie was confined to a wheelchair. But I'm sure someone cleans the pool regularly, because the water in the pool looks very clear to the naked eye.

Whatever. So I took off my clothes and jumped into the pool in my underwear. When my skin is in contact with water, I feel incredibly relaxed. I dived into the water and swam as freely as a fish. When I was in college, I took part in the school swimming competition, and I got second place.

I believe my swimming talent comes from my mother. When I was very young, my mother and I went swimming in the sea. I watched her jump into the sea, and then the waves completely submerged her body. I watched her as I dug through the sand with a plastic shovel. Just when I thought she was going to disappear, her graceful body suddenly appeared on the blue sea.

Sometimes I wonder if my mother is a mermaid, because she swims very beautifully in the sea. Her long hair was wet, and the golden sun seemed to shine on her. And she can sing. Her voice is very beautiful.

It's a good thing she's not a real mermaid, or she wouldn't have come back. The witch will give her a magic potion and she will forget her beloved Prince and her children.

Mermaids belong to the sea, and my mother belongs to me.

I only pop my head out when I've reached the limit of holding my breath in the water. But when my head came out of the water, I saw a pair of strong thighs appear at the edge of the pool, so I looked up.

Frade is standing in front of me in a pair of swimming trunks. His naked muscles were wheat in the sun. He stared at me with those green eyes, and before I could say anything, he jumped into the pool.

The splash hit my face, and by the time I dried it with my hand, he was already in front of me.

"Hey!" he whispered.

"It's morning," I said.

"That's right." He looked up at the sun. "I'm used to swimming in the morning."

"Don't you have to go to work?" I asked curiously. "I think you'll be busy."

Actually, I want to ask him why he is here. But this was his grandmother's home, and it seemed normal for him to be here. It was strange to be in the pool with him, and I thought it better to keep my distance from him. So I turned and swam.

"Hey, don't you want to know about your friend?" Frade said behind me. "That Joan woman."

"Did you get her a job?" I asked back.

"If you want to know it, How about a race?" Frade said as he swam to the end. He waved at me. "If you win, I'll tell you."

"You can't beat me."

My desire to win was aroused. So I swam over to him. As he shouted, I plunged into the water.

I swear it was the fastest swim of my life. When I reached the other end of the pool, I shouted at Frade, "I won."

But Frade was slowly swimming towards me. He didn't take the game seriously at all.

"You said it was a competition," I asked him. "But why didn't you show any spirit of participation?

He looked at me, "Because I want you to win."

"Then we don't have to play," I said. "You can just tell me."

"You smiled just now," Frade said. "You have a beautiful smile."

"Frade, I don't think you should say that to me." I couldn't resist his praise and his deep eyes.

"I'm sorry, I have to go." My mind told me I had to leave him as soon as possible.

"Joan got a job. She rejoined the Union," Frade said hastily.

"Really?" I was delighted for Joan. "Thank you."

"Eva!" He said. "I think you've lost something."

"What?" I asked.

He glanced at my chest. "Your bra."

I looked down and saw that my bra had fallen off while swimming in the race, so I quickly put my hands over my breasts. At the moment, my white bra is lying on the water leisurely basking in the sun.

"And your underwear," he said, raising his hand. My underwear was hanging on his index finger.