You Hit My Heart by Kylie Stanford

Obviously the situation around Victor was not quite suitable for him to continue the call. Obviously Ricky was determined to put him to death this time.

This made their nervous hearts, like a sudden break in the string, more unsettled and panic.

Karl slammed on the brakes and made a sharp turn.

"Where are we going now? Victor just said he was going to the clock tower. We don’t seem to be in the right direction." Joyce reached out and pressed Karl's hand on the steering wheel and questioned.

"We are going to the police headquarters first. I'll put you under our witness protection, and you will go to a safe house." Karl's cold voice came beside her.

“You want to protect me, and then you go through the risk yourself?" Joyce instantly felt a bit annoyed. She reached out and grabbed his steering wheel to stop him from turning the car, “I do not agree, how can I let you go to your death alone? I'm definitely not going to any safe house!" Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of s early and in the highest quality.

They were on the expressway, which wasn't really an ideal place for an argument. Karl failed to make the turn and the vehicle continued to move forward.

"Joyce, don't be ridiculous! Listen! Ricky is a professional killer with an international background. I can't let anything happen to you." Karl bellowed. He had never spoken to Joyce in such a stern tone before. "So I can just stand by and watch something happen to you? You know I won't. Take me with you!" Joyce refused to budge at all, "Don't waste our time. Victor is in a dangerous situation, and how much time do you think will be lost in one round trip if you take me to the police headquarters?"

feel comfortable about letting her get out of the car and go to the police station alone. Under the current situation, there were too

urgent and they had

had no choice but to hit the gas and speed towards the clock tower where Victor was

Meanwhile.

in the distance, looking at the smoking forensic center. When he saw the thick black smoke, he showed

received an urgent report from his own connections in the black market, who told him that the

must

gun on his mind, returning them as usual afterwards. After all, he had no reason to spend

someone would be looking for this

the morning. He did not

immediately realized how serious the problem could be and recalled that he probably had left some blood stains on the gun. Although he had wiped them clean at the time, analysts could identify it was his blood. The police department must have known that he was

this matter would inevitably