The Clutches Of Hell Novel

Chapter 21 Need a Girl?

A strong metallic taste spread in Victoria’s mouth as she bit down on her lower lip until it bled. This was done in an attempt to force down the gastric juice that was gushing up to her throat.

When the man saw that she had not moved for a long while, he grew more and more impatient.

At the same time, the jeering voices in the room were becoming louder.

Click. The door of the room was suddenly opened and in came the tall figure belonging to Christian.

Christian glanced across the room coldly and eventually landed his gaze on Victoria, who was kneeling on the floor. He knitted his eyebrows slightly upon seeing that but soon wore an indifferent look once again.

Meanwhile, Charlotte leaned against the wall idly with a nonchalant but seductive look on her face.

The crowd that was clamoring just a moment ago instantly quieted down. Everyone was standing straight in fear and two of them bolted to open the window to ventilate the room.

“M-Mr. Thatcher.” The man quickly pushed Victoria away and stood with the others in apprehension.

sudden shove, she lost her balance and fell to the ground. The ashtray that she had been holding on moments ago slipped from

the time to care about her or wonder why she would be holding an ashtray in the first

of the ashtray stuck in her palm resulted in her blood flowing from the cut and slowly dripping down onto the floor.

his gaze fell on her bleeding hand. Though, he looked away shortly after as if he

getting unnerved by the silence as no one dared to speak up.

man behind her. “Do you want me to call some girls for

a hollow laugh. He gulped nervously, then

all. You’re the customer here, so satisfying your desire is what

this handsome guy.” Charlotte curled up her red lips as she gave the man a wink before saying slowly. “Six machos. How does

hearing that, and he could not stop the

as she looked at him with her enchanting eyes. “I have a drug here,

this moment, his forehead was dripping with cold sweat. He looked at the others for help, but all of

gulped anxiously as more beads of cold sweat were forming on his head. “M-Mr. Thatcher, i-it’s my fault. I shouldn’t cause any trouble here. Next time, 1-1…”

Thud! He fell on the mixture of vomit and broken pieces of the ashtray. He was so

had finally finished with her cleaning and left the