The Runaway Groom

Chapter 342

There was a small white bottle, a switchblade, and a lighter.

None of them were particularly deadly, but with a little work, it could still inflict damage to the human body.

Quincy therefore had to act calm. “We’re in a police station.”

Stan chuckled. “We know that, so we won’t do anything stupid. That said, I’m quite close with that officer just now, so he’s willing to give us some space.”

Quinc’ys face paled, even as Stan took off his tie and stuffed it into her mouth.

Isaac rose to his feet as well, picking up the switchblade and ejecting the blade-it was not particularly huge, but very sharp.

“I can do it, sir,” Stan said, walking up to him.

Isaac, however, stayed silent as he walked around the table toward Quincy and pressed the blade against Quincy’s face.

He just needed to apply little pressure, and the blade would cut through Quincy’s skin.

her pupils dilating as her whole body

like she was meat on the butcher’s table, and it was even more

death was easy-one would

torment certainly left one wishing they

slid the switchblade from Quincy’s face to her neck, and she

and the blade cut through

did not bleed much since he avoided

precise, because he had been sneaking glances while Irene studied her medical books, which

spot especially given the jugular, there was a spot one could reach. there, free from blood vessels but rife

sweating buckets as her face turned pale. Her pupils dilated even as

who had been standing aside, appeared worried that Isaac would get butterfingers and slit her throat. Walking up,

looked up at

trying. “She may be heinous, but she’s not

Isaac suddenly plunged the switchblade into Quincy’s

pulled it out, he gave Stan a

miserably, her facial features contorted

could not help shuddering and

and knowledge that Quincy deserved it, he pretended to look sympathetic. Picking up the white