Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

Chapter 136

Derek spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and lunged at Curtis with a fury that seemed to urge from the depths of hell. The two men quickly became entangled in a vicious brawl.

Derek was no pushover. Even though Curtis, in his blind rage, had the upper hand, Derek fought dirty. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from a nearby table and smashed it against. Curtis’ back.

The heavy lead-free glass shattered on Curtis’ shoulder, drenching him with the amber liquid in an instant.

Curtis didn’t even try to dodge. Seizing the moment, he landed a solid kick to Derek’s gut, sending him crashing backward over a round table. His spine hit the table edge hard, twisting his face into an expression of pure agony.

Before Derek could scramble to his feet, Curtis was on him, grabbing his right hand, the one that had dared to touch Leanne, and twisted it backward with a savage jerk.

Derek’s scream was a piercing one. Curtis, with an iron grip on his collar, dragged him in front of the glass coffee table in the center of the booth, then grabbed his head.

“You should count your lucky stars I came in when I did.”

Before Derek could decipher the meaning behind those words, Curtis had already slammed his head onto the coffee table.

The whole piece of tempered glass vibrated with a deep thrum.

Derek’s head was ringing, and a crimson stream flowed down his forehead.

It was or

only now that he realized Curtis had left no room for mercy in his strikes.

He genuinely wanted to end Derek’s life.

Derek flailed with his left hand, grasping at Curtis’ arm in a vain attempt to push him away. But the muscles in Curtis’ arm were as unyielding as iron, immovable. He yanked Derek’s head back by the hair and smashed it down again.

the corner of Derek’s mouth as his

eyes were cold and terrifying, and with the impassive detachment of someone handling a

the tempered glass

glass, his vision blurred

he finally understood Curtis’ earlier

1/3

14:36

Chapter 136

Derek hadn’t had a chance. to act, but it was also the reason he was still

left him dead right there..

with his shirt stained with whiskey and his nape

straightening up, and grabbed an antique tablecloth from a

soiled cloth onto

fight, only hearing the muffled sounds of fists

footsteps approached her, and he enveloped her in his

he said, his forehead pressed against hers, his voice a low growl as

ripped, crying out his name in despair, Curtis felt a

thankful he hadn’t walked away

hadn’t come in or hadn’t heard her

breath shook almost imperceptibly as he calmed himself, then stood. “I’m taking you home.”

up

and said,

and anxious crowd had gathered, hearing

looks, the door swung open. Curtis emerged, carrying Leanne in his arms, leaving behind a room in

draped his suit jacket over her, covering most of her body securely, hiding