Shut your mother’s mouth, not mine! — his wife finally snapped. — And if you can’t do that, pack your things and run back under her skirt
Seven in the morning. The phone buzzed on the kitchen table. Alyona had not even managed to drink her coffee yet, and Valentina Yegorovna was already calling her son for her usual morning inspection. Ivan sat down at the table and put the call on speaker, as if it were the most natural thing in […]
Продолжение...