Chapter 1394:
He bared his teeth, tasting the blood as it slid into his mouth.
“Damn it!”
Millie lunged again, fighting to wrench the gun away, but Macauley’s strength locked her in a brutal stalemate.
“Millie!”
“Millie!”
Several voices shouted, helplessly watching her struggle.
The police surged forward.
“Move in for the rescue! Go!”
Boots thundered through the abandoned factory as officers stormed in.
Then the pressure finally shifted. Millie and Macauley’s struggle broke apart.
“Everyone step back!” Macauley snarled. He kicked Millie down with a vicious blow, reclaimed the gun, and chambered it with a sharp click. He swung the barrel toward Ari’s forehead.
The officers froze.
Macauley jabbed a finger toward a large display screen nearby and spat a mouthful of blood-stained saliva.
“Get out of the camera range! All of you! I counted thirty cops earlier. If even one of you disappears, I will kill either her or that little girl.”
Forced by the hostage situation, the police slowly retreated until Macauley finally stopped screaming.
Millie lay pinned beneath his boot, hatred surging through her chest like fire.
She hadn’t rested properly the night before. She had risen early for the wedding preparations. She had been dragged away by
Brandon before the ceremony started and had fought him at every step.
Her body was already exhausted, and as a man, Macauley’s strength dwarfed hers.
Her earlier attack had failed by the narrowest margin. She had aimed for his eyes—one clean strike to blind him. But he had dodged.
𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 @ gⳑ𝗮𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝗍𝖊𝗅𝘴﹒𝖼𝗈𝗺
She’d only had that one chance, and now she’d missed it.
Her bones ached, her body trembled, and yet her mind raced desperately.
She couldn’t match him physically. She needed something else—timing, distraction, anything.
“You troublesome woman!” Macauley hissed through blood and rage. He wiped his torn face with the back of his hand, smearing the blood into an ugly streak.
Instinct had saved him once; now he meant to repay her.
He raised his foot and drove it into her stomach.
The force sent Millie flying several meters across the concrete floor, knocking the breath—and blood—out of her. A choked cry tore from her lips as she hit the ground hard.
But Macauley didn’t stop.
Footsteps pounded toward her. Another savage kick slammed into her ribs. Pain exploded through her torso. Then a heel crushed down onto her right hand.
“Ah!” The porcelain shard clattered out of her grip as her fingers convulsed.
“Still daring to attack me? With a piece of porcelain?” Macauley roared, nearly unhinged.
His foot came down again—this time crashing into Millie’s face.
Her right hand went numb. Her body shook violently, and she could no longer feel her fingers. The pain blurred her vision.
.
.
.