ribs and, in the process, knocked off a few teeth along the way. My way of thinking dictates that the fact that I did not put an end to his life by killing him indicates that I did not take it from him. As a result, we really ought to be on the same level, right?
In point of fact, I have to convey that information to her at this very second. Inform her that she should tell her brother to suck my dick, and that even if both of their lives were in danger, I would not help either of them in any manner, and that she should give her brother the instruction to do so.

But I don't.
because of the interaction of two different elements at the same time.

The first one is when a person's moral compass is poked and prodded. I have a reputation for being a vicious son of a whore and a harsh commander when the circumstances need it; yet, I never go back on my word. Because he is indebted to me, he will be granted the favor.
Second, it has occurred to me that I may really be able to be of assistance to Michael's sister. She states that she is in need of monetary aid, and if she were to acquire a loan of money, a repayment plan would be developed in the event that she was to get the loan. You'll see that I've come up with a great idea for how she can make apologies with me if you take into account the fact that she is incredibly attractive, as you'll see when you put it into the equation. A course of conduct that would never, ever, under any circumstances, make Michael happy. I alternate between pulling the hem of my elastic skirt down over my legs and ensuring that the angle of my face is maintained in such a fashion that the fall of my long bangs continues to conceal one of my eyes. In both cases, I am wearing a skirt that has an elastic waistband.

The bruise I'm attempting to hide seems much worse than it really is. It's not only because Aiden Noah is without a doubt the most attractive man I've ever seen in my whole life that I have a lot of anxieties about it; there are a lot of other reasons, too. I was able to find some images of him by searching Google, but they don't do him any justice at all. I had no way of imagining that his hair was actually so dark that it was black, or that his green eyes were so light that I'd call them the color of bleached jade, but that they're streaked with slivers of rust, which makes them more beautiful than the eyes of anyone else I've ever seen. I had no way of imagining that his eyes were so light that I'd call them the color of bleached jade. I had no way of imagin Neither of these things was even somewhat conceivable under any circumstances. And that face... it's so realistically recreated that it's difficult to believe that he's really there.

On the other hand, the reason I'm here has nothing to do with his attractiveness.
Only his money is of importance to me, and Michael gave me his word that Aiden already has all that I want. "When it comes to finances, on what precisely are we focusing our conversation?" The inquiry is posed by Aiden when he is analyzing my physical appearance.
I nervously say the figure "twenty-five thousand" as I count on my fingers.
After giving it some thought for a bit, he eventually remarks, "That's a lot of money to ask of someone." However, I do owe Michael a favor, and it just so happens that I am a wealthy person.

"So you'll aid me?" I query while feeling a growing sense of eagerness in the pit of my stomach. I am now free of the overwhelming fear that had been paralyzing me for what seems like days now, and it feels amazing.
He mutters, "Perhaps," as he moves forward in his seat and positions his forearms on the desk in a crossing stance. "Perhaps," he says again. "Why do you find that necessary?"

I blurt out fast, "There's been an emergency in the family," maybe a touch too hastily, since it turns out to be a lie, "There's been an emergency in the family."
Aiden's eyebrows furrow into a thoughtful look as he continues to gaze right through me. You are responsible for paying the money over to the other person.
I am so shocked that my eyes start to pop out of my head, and I fully give away my position by stammer, "How on earth could you possibly know that?"