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.

of Derek’s mouth as

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

the tempered

glass, his vision

consciousness, he finally

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Chapter 136

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

would have left him dead

his shirt stained with whiskey and his nape cut by the broken glass, blood soaking his

up, and grabbed an antique tablecloth from a nearby small round table to wipe

the soiled cloth onto Derek’s body and walked away.

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

and he enveloped her in

his forehead pressed against hers, his voice a low growl as if restraining

and seen her clothes ripped, crying out his name in despair, Curtis felt a

walked away

bear to imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t come in or hadn’t

shook almost imperceptibly as he calmed himself, then

up

and said,

room, a tense and anxious crowd had gathered, hearing the chaos inside but too afraid to enter.

door swung open. Curtis emerged, carrying Leanne in his

his suit jacket over her, covering most of her