Facade of Love

Chapter 33 Wounded

Before I could react, I saw Benett’s wife pull out a tiny sharp knife, no bigger than a pen, and lunge at Moore and Idris. Moore was the first to notice her, and she screamed.

Idris reacted very quickly. Before the knife could reach him, he grabbed a hold of it. The handle was not long, and given his strength compared to the average woman’s, it was no challenge. He took hold of her wrist with his other hand. She instinctively let go of the knife due to the pain and was pushed to the ground.

As this happened, the cafe immediately descended into chaos, and the security personnel outside quickly came in, restraining Benett’s wife and then calling the police.

“Iddy, you’re bleeding,” Moore said, looking at Idris’s hand that was holding the knife handle. There was a distressed look on

her face.

I glanced over and saw that Idris was indeed injured. Although the knife was small, it was extremely sharp, and even with his quick reaction, Idris had gotten cut.

Fortunately, it was only a hand wound. I could not help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Smackd! With reddened eyes, Moore walked up to Benett’s restrained wife and slapped her across the face, angrily exclaiming, You mad woman. We have no grudges against you, so why attempt to kill us?!”

Moore did not try to restrain her strength, and it left the woman’s mouth bleeding.

spat the blood in her mouth toward Moore, glaring at her and Idris with contempt.

H

wife looked at me and said, “You have quite the tolerance. I wouldn’t be satisfied even killing these adulterers a hundred times over. If I were you, I would’ve cut them into a million pieces

this stemmed from her husband’s disgusting actions, I took a slight breath and did

and after understanding the situation,

called out to the

to be a few years older than me. He looked

killed her husband, and the b*dy should be in the trunk of a blue

so were

of peace, the loss of a human life was enough to draw serious attention. Originally, the police were prepared to take Benett’s wife back to the station to await trial for assault with a knife, but after hearing what I said, the

police had me accompany them. Idris was wounded, and with her face full of worry, Moore softly

him so keen to involve himself

he suddenly looked at me and asked, “How

herself,” I replied, trying my best not to look at the wound on his hand. I really did

purpose, he spread his palm open and exposed the bloody wound for all to see. It was a ghastly sight. He looked at me as if he did not care

wound, so I looked away and said impatiently,