Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

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. Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

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. Curtis’ back.

The heavy lead-free glass shattered on Curtis’ shoulder, drenching him with the amber liquid in an instant.

Curtis didn’t even try to dodge. Seizing the moment, he landed a solid kick to Derek’s 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.

Derek’s 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.

“You should count your lucky stars I came in when I did.”

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.

Derek’s 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 Derek’s life.

Derek flailed with his left hand, grasping at Curtis’ arm in a vain attempt to push him away. But the muscles in Curtis’ arm were as unyielding as iron, immovable. He yanked Derek’s head back by the hair and smashed it down again.

Blood trickled from the corner of Derek’s mouth as his hands fell limply to his sides.

Curtis’ eyes were cold and terrifying, and with the impassive detachment of someone handling a dead fish, he smashed Derek’s 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 Curtis’ earlier words.

14:36

He should be grateful Curtis had come in when he did nothing. Derek hadn’t 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 Derek’s blood from his hands.

Once done, he tossed the soiled cloth onto Derek’s 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.

Curtis’ heavy footsteps approached her, and he enveloped her in his arms.

“It’s over,” he said, his forehead pressed against hers, his voice a low growl as if restraining something, “Leanne, it’s all over.”

Remembering the moment he’d 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 hadn’t walked away but had instead kicked down that door.

He couldn’t bear to imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t come in or hadn’t heard her cry out for him.

Curtis’ breath shook almost imperceptibly as he calmed himself, then stood. “I’m taking you home.”

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 Curtis’ icy glare sent him swiftly averting his

Curtis’ voice had regained its steady composure but still carried an undercurrent of frost as he spoke to Suzan, “Tell Jerry and Aaron to wipe those photos clean, If they don’t want to cross me, they’ll keep what they saw to themselves.”

14:36

Suzan opened her mouth to speak, but Curtis Had already looked away.

“Make a list of the damages here, and someone will come to take care of it,” he said coldly, scanning the club’s staff, “As for tonight’s events, if I hear even a whisper of it outside, I’ll hold you accountable.”

The manager paled, quickly assuring, “You can trust me. On my life, it won’t leak.”

Curtis didn’t wait to listen, stepping away with Leanne in his arms.

14:36

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