Facade of Love

Chapter 8 Car Accident

I froze for a few seconds before I snapped back to reality as my l*ps started to ache from his bites. I tried to push him away forcefully, but the inherent difference in strength between men and women quickly became apparent. My efforts were futile in the face of his.

“Idris, aren’t you disgusted?” I struggled, my voice a little hoarse.

My words seemed to have an effect on him. He stopped, his thin l*ps slightly swollen and irresistibly S**y. He stared at me silently, his black eyes unwavering.

I met his gaze, took a deep breath, and asked, “Is this how you treat Moore when you’re with her? Forcing yourself her when you can’t win an argument?”

“Disgusted?” He looked at me, his face darkening in a frightening way. Ignoring my discomfort, he lifted the hem of my shirt. His large hands were caressing the ugly scar on my abdomen. He looked at me mockingly and sneered. “Yes, it’s pretty disgusting.”

I felt as if I had been struck by lightning and rooted to the spot. His words were like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless. Some people could utterly destroy you with just one sentence.

He knew my Achilles‘ heel, and his strike hit the mark.

Yes, I had also been extremely disgusted by this hideous scar on my abdomen. This scar reminded me

all the time about how stupid and ignorant I was when I was eighteen years old.

“Ha…” I wanted to laugh but could not. Facing the stern man before me, I opened my mouth but found myself speechless.

I did not have the strength to look at him anymore, nor did I want to hear his mockery. I pushed him

away.

me leaving, he reached out to grab me, but I dodged him. I could not tell

the rest of his

In the bedroom.

lay in bed, feeling dazed and powerless. How had I survived those six months at the border? The killing, the filth, the

were so lethal that even recalling them

went to the bathroom. I turned on the shower, and let

nightmares haunted

awakened by the doorbell downstairs. I had slept poorly,

door and

urgency and the bloodstains on him,

the hospital now. Mrs. Young, please come with me.” Without waiting for my response, he

start the car in a hurry, I could not help but ask, “What exactly happened?” How did he

to pray this morning. On the way back, they somehow got into an accident. Mr. Young

looked at the time. It was only seven in the morning. The trip to the church alone would

Were they praying or going on

the streets, and we soon arrived at

emergency room, I saw Moore sitting in the corridor, crying her eyes

arrived, people from the Young family also appeared. It was their old

Zachary.

moment and asked me, “Mrs. Young, what happened? Why was there a car accident all of a