Titanic: True Love Forever

Chapter 24: Extra Story(2)

Yes, a thief. Dressed in dirty, like found trash clothes, with a disheveled face, he scrounged for a living at the bottom of the social ladder.

Carl had never felt so agitated, and he scratched the stiff collar around his neck vigorously as he hurried up from the bottom deck. The thief had been caught, and he would soon have that watch back. What was the matter with that watch ...... It occurred to Carl that just now he would have run into the cabin that was devoted to criminals, just to see a robber. It was a necessity, only he could identify the gray and charcoal-faced thief. There was no need to identify it at all, the watch must be on the fellow, and it could be searched and convicted straight away at a command.

Now what's he going to do?

Carl ran to the smoking room on the A floor and leaned over the big fireplace, which was over two meters wide, to smoke a cigar. In the meantime he was talking to a couple of big rich businessmen about the political situation in the country and the list of investment commodities worth buying at the end of the year.

These were areas he knew well and was proud of, and he could easily capitalize on these big-priced business opportunities. Cal spent a while in the smoking room, the familiar surroundings relaxing him a bit as he tried not to think about his pocket watch or those light green eyes.

On his way down from the smoking room he saw Rose still in the lounge of the grand staircase with her mother, exchanging pleasantries with the noblewomen, he should have walked over but found himself tired.

For the first time, Carl felt that his heart was in the right place, and that unpleasant feeling of chest congestion was about to start up again. He went right back into his suite and wandered back and forth across the sitting room floor walking several times until he had suppressed that annoying agitation. Then he opened the liquor cabinet, pulled out the bottle, and poured himself a brandy, rubbing his palm slowly against the glass to warm the drink, then tilted his head back and took a sip.

Waiting for the liquor to do its job, Karl felt a little more relaxed. He walked over to the private deck and casually sat down in one of the lounge chairs, grimacing as he continued to pour his drink. For the second glass, he took his usual drinking style, a small sip and then another, swallowing it down very gracefully. A little tipsy from the drink, some of the images he'd confined to the depths of his mind almost came off the rails. He thought of those green eyes over and over again, and at first he thought he was thinking of his fiancée, but it soon became clear to him that he was imagining nothing more than one of those blurry images in his consciousness.

He jumbled up thoughts of snow-white skin, blonde hair, and light green eyes.

A young girl, sitting in an oil painting looking at him.

The oil painting was dated 1526, a Renaissance antique. He was stupid enough to keep asking who she was and why she didn't walk out. The visceral impact of that color made him discover his own standards of beauty. And along with it, his choice of women as a teenager had always leaned toward that color, including the fiancée he was now about to choose for an engagement, whose eyes were green.

Carl continued to drink, not quite in his right mind, and spilled a little on his pants. Even just now he felt someone running past in the sitting room, he peeked through the glass window on the deck and looked inside, nothing.

Carrying the bottle of wine, glass in hand, he grinned as he stood up and walked from the private deck to the sitting room, wanting to take a dip in the bathroom. The fuzzy colors kept floating around in his brain, and it made him stumble a little in his steps as well. He managed to see the door and elbowed it straight open, a sound of breaking water like smashed glass rushed into his ears with a crash, and a snowy white light suddenly appeared in Carl's somewhat blurred vision.

Suddenly he couldn't hear anything, all was quiet.

Those blurred colors, like a sharp dagger, cut open his eyeballs viciously, stuck into his chest, instantly clear, light as the green of an early morning field, came out from inside the painting. Carl stared at her dumbfounded, his long wet blonde hair draped more damply than seaweed over her chest, those clean droplets of water glistening coldly on it.

He realized that the old painting was moving away, crushed bit by bit by her beautiful light green eyes. Carl could no longer remember why he had indulged in that color, and his mind became even more muddled as he felt he was dreaming, a beautiful dream that made his bones begin to want to shiver.

He even felt like he should walk up to her, to touch her, to see if it was a canvas.

Her snow-white skin, her slim, slender limbs, her long blonde hair and her green eyes ...... glaring at him?

Carl instantly felt a little panic, he did not even know what he was panicking, the wine glass slipped from his hand, the crisp sound of his heartbeat disordered, he was like an off-balance gyroscope tilted backward, and hastily fell back half a step. Then like a poor man who hadn't seen the world, he was busy apologizing, "Sorry, I'm in the wrong place." His memory was even more confused, did he walk to the suite next door? Or was he dreaming, he wasn't sure as he stole a few glances at her, the long curly hair hanging down over her stomach, covered in beads of water sliding downwards.

A hot sensation came over him that embarrassed him to no end, and Carl just followed his instincts to remain a gentleman as he routed backwards as hastily as a defeated soldier on the run. He wasn't even sure what words had passed his lips, he just wanted to get away from those green eyes that were burning with rage.

He stumbled and slammed the door hard in an attempt to wake up from this dream. With his feet crunching over the glass slag on the floor, Cal turned around in a bit of a trance to look around. Ornate walls in the Dodo style, a ribbon-designed fireplace, ornate furniture, and his wine cooler. That's right, he snapped out of it, this was his room.

Wait, who was ...... that woman just now?

Carl was confused for a few seconds, the alcohol making his brain run much slower than usual. Could it be that what he just saw was an illusion, then look a few more times to study it, Carl turned around in surprise and immediately pushed the door open, "Wait a minute, this is my place." But at a glance the bathtub was empty and the floor was full of water, Carl froze and before he could react back a sharp unbearable pain came from his lower body. The pain was like someone breaking bones all over your body, and then all the pain of the bones breaking was gathered in the same place, and he fell straight to his knees, with nothing more than a huffing motion.

What happened next was a horrible nightmare, Carl had never experienced anything that drove him so insane. The woman who had inexplicably appeared from the bathtub stomped on his stomach again and kicked him very hard. Carl was kicked so hard that he had to vomit in his stomach, almost, because he had a towel stuffed in his mouth.

The woman's long damp hair nearly covered his face as she dragged him to the sitting room. Cal's nose was full of moisture and the smell that if anything only belonged to a woman after a shower. The smell didn't make him feel any better, he felt like he was in pain, more pain than being run over by several cars. The sharp pain down there tugged at his stomach, mixing into a hallucination that made him ache everywhere.

The pain made him extremely angry, no one had ever dared to treat him like this, and for the first time he wanted to kill someone so badly.

It wasn't until he was densely tied up with a damn sheet that Carl truly realized that he had encountered a home invasion robber. Cold sweat oozed from the surface of his trembling muscles as he struggled to breathe through his nose. The robber had tossed him aside before running to the bathroom, and Carl couldn't wait to get out of this horrible bondage, but no matter how much he struggled, there was no way he could tear the sheet off and climb out.

The bathroom door suddenly opened, and Carl immediately stiffened in his flailing motion, raising his eyes to see a flowing skirt flying quickly before his eyes. He blinked his eyes down with difficulty. Realizing that the woman had run inside the room, he immediately began struggling again. Without struggling twice, the cloaked woman ran out of the room carrying a box, without even looking at him, directly sitting on the floor, the beige skirt is so soft that it looks like a feathery cloud undulating along the curves of her body.

Karl raised his eyes to see her sitting not far away, her long hair fell on her face, he could only see the side of her face in this position, which made him unable to remember the face of this robber completely. Just now in the bathroom, Carl remembered that naked scene and only felt more pain down there.

The female robber looked at the mirror in the doorway in silence, it was a suffocating sensation and Carl couldn't understand what she wanted. His safe was in the room, and it contained a large amount of cash, as well as the expensive Heart of the Ocean. Could it be that she was brewing up some kind of torture to force him to reveal the combination, Carl calmed down instead after coming up with this logical answer, as long as she opened her mouth to force the issue, he would have a chance to negotiate with her, and then Carl continued to wriggle without moving his body in an attempt to get himself out of such a bad predicament.

He raised his eyes to watch her warily, sizing her up, speculating on her next move. Then he saw the woman in front of him begin to pull her hair back, and with an extremely smooth and graceful gesture she brushed back the long hair that was strewn around, and little by little, Cal finally saw her face.

A slightly boyish, incredibly clean face.

She had curled her hair all the way back, revealing her white neck. Long, slender fingers meticulously stroked over the contours of her face, as if she didn't even recognize the face herself and was meticulously identifying it.

Karl thought the scene seemed grotesque and beautiful.

He watched as she began to apply her makeup, her movements frighteningly serious, her eyes gazing into the mirror in the doorway with the same demeanor as if she were sculpting a work of art.

That burning boil in her light green eyes quieted, and she broke into a quiet, sweet smile. Carl looked at her incredulously, as if in a dream. When she stood up, Karl almost forgot that this woman was a robber, her bloodless lips were like roses next to a mirror, her fingernails were so clean that there wasn't a speck of dirt under them, and her stolen dress fit her like it should have been made for her.

Cal's eyes had been captured by her, and she walked around his territory as if he were the thief and she the master.

Then she flashed a graceful, subtle smile, her light eyes gazing up at him as if they'd known each other for years. And the next second, she turned and walked out toward the door.

Carl was about to call out to her offhandedly, not to go. Instead, all that came out of his mouth was a mess of muffled grunts, and he fought to yell at her angrily that he wasn't allowed to go.

Yes, don't go.