Madam Dihao is not good

I will not tie my future and happiness into the hands of a man.

She would never let herself fall into such a desolate and helpless situation like her sister.

But Chanel didn't know that it was such a woman that men were most afraid of and most difficult to control:

They have a dream, a job, and a stable income and do not need to rely on men economically;

They are independent, have firm principles and do not need to rely on men emotionally. [

They are proud, not vain, and have no excessive desire for material things, so they are not easy to be bought by men.

And Chanel is gradually becoming such a woman.

Wearing a long nude dress, she walked quietly on the path by the lake.

The light from the palace lamps shone down, illuminating her slender figure and beautiful face, like a vintage picture in an old movie.

Her beauty quietly evaporates from her gestures.

This is the beauty that belongs to a mature woman, and it radiates from the heart, not just the surface.

Two British men came from the opposite side, staring at her, fascinated.

If it weren't for Su Shijie's sinister gaze, they might have stepped forward to have a chat with her.

Taking off the coat on her body, Su Shijie stepped forward and draped the coat over her shoulders.

Chanel froze for a moment, and just as she turned her head, her arm was grabbed.

He bound her tightly, his palms were as hot as iron.

"What are you doing, you hurt me!"

Chanel was frightened by his sudden and rude behavior.

She opened her eyes wide, raised her chin slightly, and stared at him blankly.

Her eyes were quiet, and his shadow was reflected in her clear eyes.

He lowered his head suddenly, pressed her against the fence, and kissed her hard.

This kiss was rough and fierce, venting strong anger, but it was also reluctant.

He can control any woman, because he can know what she wants in a short time, so as to break through.

But Chanel is different, she has no desire. [

He couldn't find what she cared about the most, how would he buy her heart, how could he...