His Dangerous Love

Chapter 93 A Terrible Greeting

Chapter 93 A Terrible Greeting

"Ah!"

A cry escaped Clare's lips.

She stumbled, her eyes fixated on the knife lodged in Neil's leg and the large splatters of blood, almost fainting.

Trembling, she stuttered, "You... you're crazy!"

Jefferson admired the fading color on Neil's face and then lifted his chin. "Consider it payback."

Realizing he was referencing the previous assassination attempt, Clare lost her courage to say something.

At the same time, Neil subtly shook his head, asking her to stay silent.

"Oh, by the way," Jefferson took a few strides forward, then turned back.

"That girl you recently sent, she's quite fascinating, with a strong spirit."

Neil remained calm.

He let out a sigh, as if he were dealing with a mischievous little brother. "Jeff, you've misunderstood me."

But Jefferson persisted, "But no matter how strong she may be, her days are numbered."

Neil fell into silence, simply watching him.

"But I suppose you don't care. After all, you have so many henchmen. If a few perish, it's no big deal, right?"

"Jeff, enough with the mischief."

Jefferson paused for a moment, then erupted into boisterous laughter, as if he had just heard a highly amusing joke.

Eventually, he pretended to wipe away tears of amusement.

"Well then, I'll eagerly await our noble-hearted Neil to attain enlightenment and come to my rescue."

His arrogant laughter faded along with his figure.

What remained was a charred garden.

...

Elianna stood by the pool and delicately rinsed the coffee pot.

Sparkling water droplets adorned her fair hand, cascading down her fingertips.

Suddenly, an unexpected embrace came from behind, causing her to gasp in surprise.

As the teapot slipped from her grasp, on the verge of shattering, a strong and steady hand swiftly caught it, saving it from destruction.

Accompanying the rescue was the alluring and magnetic laughter of a man.

"You always find a way to be clumsy, don't you?"

Elianna's head turned swiftly upon hearing that familiar voice.

Jefferson, with an air of possessiveness, stood behind her, trapping her against the poolside.

She glanced around, confirming that they were alone, and then asked anxiously, "What are you doing here?"

Jefferson casually set the teapot aside and replied, "Just washing my hands."

It was only then that Elianna noticed the bloodstains on his hands. This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

She could even catch a faint whiff of blood in the air.

Recalling Jefferson's earlier words, she became tangled on her tongue.

"This... You... You just..."

Jefferson encircled her to fetch water for handwashing.

He cast a sidelong glance at her.

"Are you scared?"

Scared? She was scared to death!

Any ordinary person would be frightened to see him covered in blood right after escaping from a scene of violence.

But Elianna dared not voice her thoughts.

She could only muster a forced smile and reply, "How could I be scared of you?"

Jefferson finished washing his hands, and his damp hand abruptly twisted her face.

"You have such a sweet mouth," he remarked, his eyes darkening.

Elianna understood the implications of his actions.

Sensing the tension, she attempted to break free, suggesting that she needed to go brew some coffee.

However, Jefferson, leaning against the pool's edge, insisted on staying a while longer.

Elianna felt suffocated by the situation, torn between the fear of being caught and the fear of provoking his violent tendencies.

She remained frozen, allowing Jefferson to toy with her lips.