Chapter 136
Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back! ( Leanne Castillo )
Chapter 136
Derek spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and lunged at Curtis with a fury that seemed to urge from the depths of hell. The two men quickly became entangled in a vicious brawl.
Derek was no pushover. Even though Curtis, in his blind rage, had the upper hand, Derek fought dirty. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from a nearby table and smashed it against. Curtisâ back.
The heavy lead-free glass shattered on Curtisâ shoulder, drenching him with the amber liquid in an instant.
Curtis didnât even try to dodge. Seizing the moment, he landed a solid kick to Derekâs gut, sending him crashing backward over a round table. His spine hit the table edge hard, twisting his face into an expression of pure agony.
Before Derek could scramble to his feet, Curtis was on him, grabbing his right hand, the one that had dared to touch Leanne, and twisted it backward with a savage jerk.
Derekâs scream was a piercing one. Curtis, with an iron grip on his collar, dragged him in front of the glass coffee table in the center of the booth, then grabbed his head.
âYou should count your lucky stars I came in when I did.â
Before Derek could decipher the meaning behind those words, Curtis had already slammed his head onto the coffee table.
The whole piece of tempered glass vibrated with a deep thrum.
Derekâs head was ringing, and a crimson stream flowed down his forehead.
It was or
only now that he realized Curtis had left no room for mercy in his strikes.
He genuinely wanted to end Derekâs life.
Derek flailed with his left hand, grasping at Curtisâ arm in a vain attempt to push him away. But the muscles in Curtisâ arm were as unyielding as iron, immovable. He yanked Derekâs head back by the hair and smashed it down again.
Blood trickled from the corner of Derekâs mouth as his hands fell limply to his sides.
Curtisâ eyes were cold and terrifying, and with the impassive detachment of someone handling a dead fish, he smashed Derekâs head into the coffee table for the third time.
Crash, the tempered glass shattered.
Derek lay amidst the broken glass, his vision blurred with blood, unable to even crawl.
In his fading consciousness, he finally understood Curtisâ earlier words.
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He should be grateful Curtis had come in when he did nothing. Derek hadnât had a chance. to act, but it was also the reason he was still alive.
Otherwise, Curtis would have left him dead right there..
Curtis himself was far from unscathed, with his shirt stained with whiskey and his nape cut by the broken glass, blood soaking his collar.
He breathed heavily, straightening up, and grabbed an antique tablecloth from a nearby small round table to wipe Derekâs blood from his hands.
Once done, he tossed the soiled cloth onto Derekâs body and walked away.
Leanne had been shielded from witnessing the brutality of the fight, only hearing the muffled sounds of fists hitting flesh and the violent crashes, followed by the loud noise of shattering glass.
Curtisâ heavy footsteps approached her, and he enveloped her in his arms.
âItâs over,â he said, his forehead pressed against hers, his voice a low growl as if restraining something, âLeanne, itâs all over.â
Remembering the moment heâd walked in and seen her clothes ripped, crying out his name in despair, Curtis felt a breath-stealing pain in his chest.
He was eternally thankful he hadnât walked away but had instead kicked down that door.
He couldnât bear to imagine what would have happened if he hadnât come in or hadnât heard her cry out for him.
Curtisâ breath shook almost imperceptibly as he calmed himself, then stood. âIâm taking you home.â
up
and said,
Outside the room, a tense and anxious crowd had gathered, hearing the chaos inside but too afraid to enter.
Just as they exchanged uncertain looks, the door swung open. Curtis emerged, carrying Leanne in his arms, leaving behind a room in complete disarray.
He had draped his suit jacket over her, covering most of her body securely, hiding her from
view.
Her face, tucked into the crook of his neck and partially veiled by his clothing, was rendered unrecognizable.
The
gaze.
manager caught one glimpse before Curtisâ icy glare sent him swiftly averting his
Curtisâ voice had regained its steady composure but still carried an undercurrent of frost as he spoke to Suzan, âTell Jerry and Aaron to wipe those photos clean, If they donât want to cross me, theyâll keep what they saw to themselves.â
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Suzan opened her mouth to speak, but Curtis Had already looked away.
âMake a list of the damages here, and someone will come to take care of it,â he said coldly, scanning the clubâs staff, âAs for tonightâs events, if I hear even a whisper of it outside, Iâll hold you accountable.â
The manager paled, quickly assuring, âYou can trust me. On my life, it wonât leak.â
Curtis didnât wait to listen, stepping away with Leanne in his arms.
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