A tear slipped down her cheek as she reached out to pick up a photo.
The mont captured in this photo was when she and Fiona Sutton went to the Lotus Residence, and Fiona’s hand was tightly held by Yancy Hastings.
Her gaze shifted, and she saw the photo of her confrontation with Samuel Peary and Phoebe Harris at the old family ho.
Even among these photos, there were ones of her and Hendry Hampton shopping together.
Pictures of her trying on a wedding dress with a smile, images of her and Hendry Hampton browsing wedding rings, shots of them snuggling together watching the sunset...
As tears slid down her face, her gaze returned to the divorce agreent.
Nia Mitchell picked up a pen from the desk and swiftly signed her na on the last page.
「Western Street Bar—」
The largest and most luxurious bar in Capital Town. Yancy Hastings, dressed in a camouflage suit and holding a gun, stared darkly at a certain creature clinging to him.
Damn it, he just wanted to call her an animal.
"Hawkeye...?"
The vice-captain of the special forces couldn’t believe what he saw. They had been ambushing here for several days and had finally caught the ’rat’ who was planning a deal today. Upon receiving news that the transaction had already started, they were preparing to storm in. But...
Could anyone explain what the hell was happening?
"You go ahead. Don’t let anyone involved in this deal slip away."
The gears in Yancy Hastings’ mind spun rapidly as he issued the order without delay.
"Yes, Sir!"
As his n left, Yancy Hastings’s face darkened even further.
Damn it! This was a total embarrassnt.
What the hell was wrong with this woman?
"Fiona Sutton!"
Yancy Hastings had investigated Nia Mitchell, so he knew who the drunken creature in front of him was.
It took Fiona quite a while to lift her head from Yancy Hastings’s chest.
Swaying, she looked at the three heads she seed to see before her, feeling dizzy, and closed her eyes again.
"My Knight, you’re finally here..."
She murmured. At last, she had proven that she held a place in Charles Northwood’s heart. Even if he knew she liked him, he would gradually accept it. He would definitely accept it.
"Get off !" Yancy Hastings spat coldly. She had mistaken him for soone else. Damn, was his face that generic?
"No." Fiona Sutton resolutely refused. She wouldn’t let go. The mont she did, he would vanish.
"Get off!"
"No!"
As she spoke, Fiona shifted, tightening her legs around him and wrapping her arms more securely around his neck.
Yancy Hastings frowned deeply. He was about to pry her ’claws’ off when he caught sight of the gauze bandage on her wrist.
His eyes flickered. He changed the direction of his hands, reaching out to support her bottom.
"You’ve mistaken for soone else," he explained patiently, but would a drunkard pay any attention to what he was saying?
It’s so noisy around here, Fiona frowned. She lifted her head and abruptly kissed his chattering lips.
Mmm, finally quiet.
Yes, it was quiet.
Even all the custors cowering on the ground, who had been constantly complaining, fell silent at this mont.
What in the world did they just see?
The leader who had swaggered in with a gun and a large group of soldiers was just standing there, being clung to by a drunk woman.
That was bizarre enough, but now they were kissing? What was happening?
They suddenly felt an icy chill radiating in waves from the man at the center, spreading from the soles of their feet throughout their entire bodies.
Everyone shivered.
Wait, would they, the witnesses, be silenced for this?
The crowd gulped, their eyes fixed on the gun in the man’s hand.
User Comments
0 comments from readers