My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna)

Shivering, Aaron turned and noticed that I had been caught. He gritted his teeth and made a low whine, refusing to admit defeat. However, the pain from his right arm made him scream out uncontrollably. "Don't cry, Arianna. Don't cry. I'm fine. Ah..."

"Jordan! If you don't kill me now, I'll make sure you wish you were dead for the rest of your life!"

"Aaron, stop!" My voice was hoarse from crying. I was close to begging him. "Please, you don't have to pretend to be brave right now."

Regardless, my worst fears had come true. His stubbornness had triggered Jordan's men. They watched and found pleasure from his suffering. One of the men gradually raised his hand with the blood stained steel pipe from before over his head.

Finally, the security guards had rushed over and yelled at them from the intersection, "Stop! What are you doing?! Put the weapon down!"

I heard dense footsteps coming closer and closer. I almost thought that Aaron was about to be saved.

But I forgot that they were a bunch of hooligans.

They knew the consequences if they got caught, but none of them were willing to leave their friends behind. Instead, they all looked at the man who was standing over Aaron.

"Crack..."

The sound of bones cracking rang out through my ears. Aaron numbly dropped his neck and fell heavily on the ground. He didn't make any more sound.

have frozen over at this moment. All I saw was

men were extremely cruel. They had the upper hand from the very start of the fight. Gradually, more backup for the

all of the men were caught up in the fight. None of them were holding

mumbled to myself, "It's okay, you just have external injuries. It will heal

I was comforting

touch his bloody arm, let alone look at it. I was afraid that I would lose hope

who treated me like

even do wrong? He just stood up for his sister and taught

had turned into tears of hatred for

'operating' light went out and a

his bed and his body was covered with a thin blanket. If it weren't for the heavily bandaged arm, he would have looked like he was just

and laid my head on the bed. There were a few scratches on his face, but they didn't distort his facial features at all. Instead, they made him look like a tough

eyes suddenly turned red. I sniffed

operation that had

either. He nodded wearily and said, "He's longer in a critical state." "However," the

"Mrs.