Nolan Morrison was taken aback, the scene just now passed faster than a blink of an eye, and when he focused again, Matilda Jenkins' eyes were tightly closed, appearing to have sunk into a deep coma,
as if that moment just now was merely Nolan Morrison seeing things, and it did not exist.
Nolan Morrison quietly pinched the palm of his hand, feeling the pain.
His heart gradually settled, Matilda was not passed out, she was still conscious, which at least indicated that the current situation was not the worst for them.
Everything still had a chance for a turnaround.
The two tall and large foreigners lifted Matilda Jenkins and were about to walk towards the sofa, Nolan Morrison spoke: "Wait a minute."
Mr. Brown's eyebrow danced: "What, ready to talk with me? I welcome it at any time."
Nolan Morrison's eyes coldly swept over the two foreigners. Their hands touched his wife, and he must chop off those four hands.
