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.

of Derek’s mouth as his hands

and terrifying, and with the impassive detachment of someone handling a dead fish, he smashed Derek’s head

the tempered glass shattered.

the broken glass, his vision blurred with blood,

his fading consciousness, he finally understood Curtis’

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Chapter 136

when he did nothing. Derek hadn’t had a chance. to act, but it

left him dead right

himself was far from unscathed, with his shirt stained with whiskey and his nape cut by the broken glass, blood soaking his

grabbed an antique tablecloth from a

done, he tossed the soiled cloth

only hearing the muffled sounds of fists hitting flesh and the violent crashes, followed

he

his voice a low growl as if restraining something, “Leanne, it’s all

crying out his name in despair,

he hadn’t walked away but had instead kicked down

if he hadn’t come in or hadn’t heard her

almost imperceptibly as he calmed

up

and said,

gathered, hearing

open. Curtis emerged, carrying

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

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