The True Mistress Has A Thousand Hidden Identities

Only then did Eugene recover from the shock and started to sing, his voice trembling a little.

His eyes turned moist as he sang.

Although he was not a famous actor, there was a girl standing in the heavy rain, listening to him sing.

The girl was wearing a veil, looking at him under the stage. When the eyes met, even the sound of rain had become gentle.

This person, like his savior, was more important than ten thousand audiences alone.

Holding up the umbrella, Claire stood in the rain and quietly listened to him from beginning to end, without any impatience.

At the end of the performance, Eugene wanted to step down the stage to thank her.

But the girl disappeared in a blink of an eye.

A week later, the weather cleared up.

In the troupe, Eugene was lying on the ground, clutching the trouser legs of the head, and roared desperately. “No, Head, you can’t sell me!”

The head looked indifferent. “Why can’t I? You’re nothing but my slave. I can sell you to anyone. You should thank your pretty face. Otherwise, the big boss won’t even look at you. You should be grateful!”

“Please don’t…” Eugene dense shook his head vigorously, crying and begging. “Let me stay. I want to sing. I will work hard and make you more money!”

The head of the troupe snorted. “You wish! You’re better suited as a rich man’s plaything.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

“I will redeem him.”

At this time, a casual voice sounded.

Everyone turned their heads, only to see Claire walking over slowly.

Eugene’s eyes suddenly widened and his eyes lit up.

It’s her!

The head of the troupe looked at Claire with contempt. “Little girl, where are you from? Don’t make trouble!”

Claire tore a check and threw it in front of him. “Look, is this enough?”

The head of the troupe took a look, and his face instantly changed, and he immediately gave a fawning smile. “Enough, enough…”

“He’s mine now, right?”

The head of the troupe kept nodding.

Claire looked down at Eugene on the ground. “Stand up.”

Eugene stood up blankly.

Claire took him to a small western-style building.

When they entered the door, Kenny and Jacob were drinking in the dining hall. Amelia was lying prostrate on the sofa, watching cartoons. Seeing Claire, she rushed over, hugged Claire’s legs, and began to complain. “The two of them keep drinking and ignore me!”

Claire stroked her hair. “Kids shall not drink.”

“Huh? Who is he?” Amelia stared at Eugene curiously.

Under the veil, Claire smiled. “He is a new member.”

In the living room, Eugene was sitting on the sofa, looking a little cramped.

Claire was quickly tapping on the keyboard. “There is a new task.”

They all craned their necks towards the screen.

Claire pointed to the photo on the computer. “This person is called Bruce, a child trafficker. Who is going to solve him?”

Amelia raised her little hand. “Me, me. This kind of jerk is my favorite prey!”

Late at night.

Bruce came out of the nightclub drunk, walking on a secluded path, and suddenly heard someone sobbing.

Following the sound, he saw a black, curled-up shadow by the roadside. When he came closer, he found that it was a little girl, crying with her head buried in her arms.

Bruce squatted down and asked. “Little girl, what’s wrong with you?”

The little girl raised her head, her delicate face full of tears. She bit her pink lip, crying pitifully, her voice childish. “I… I am lost. I don’t know how to go home, boohoo…”

Bruce secretly grinned.

This girl should be able to sell at a good price.

He immediately smiled and coaxed. “Don’t cry, girl. Let me take you home, okay?”

“Okay, thank you, Uncle!” Amelia stood up, pointed at her ankle, and looked at Bruce with her innocent eyes. “Uncle, my feet hurt. Can you carry me?”