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Once news about my savage stock shorting tactic was relayed to Dohjon Leong’s friends, all hell broke loose for the rest of the day. Victor shielded me from unnecessary angst provoked in and around our wide social circle by strangers, primarily lawyers trying to reach me through friends, including fellow law students.
Victor ran me a bath, sprinkled salts throughout the warm water, and sat beside it while I soaked, luxuriating and relaxing. My husband bathed me with a soft, natural sea sponge, using a rich lathering soap. He had strategically placed and lit large church candles in our bathroom and bedroom, unscented because my sense of smell had gone haywire.
Our bathroom became my comfortingly lit, romantic sanctuary, guarded by a brave, kind, and true knight. Victor answered my questions calmly as he massaged my neck, squeezing out knots.
“Why has this become such a shit-storm, Victor?”
“You thought Dohjon would deliver your message, the group would have a sensible discussion and come to a conclusion that aligned with yours?”