Fiona Sutton immediately reached out with her left hand to pry open the large hand gripping her, but it was in vain; the man just held on tighter.
"Ah! My hand is going to be crippled!"
Fiona yelled. Lifting her head, she realized that the man gripping her wrist was the very same soldier from before.
Damn it, talk about a small world for enemies!
"Let go! Real men don't fight women!"
Fiona endured the pain and glared at Yancy Hastings. Bloody hell, he's even standing next to that gorgeous woman! Doesn't he care about maintaining his gentlemanly demeanor in front of her?
May he never find a girlfriend, and may his wife run off with another man!
Yancy Hastings glanced at Fiona and disdainfully released her hand.
"No manners."
Those words again. Just how much did he despise Fiona?
Fiona ignored his comment; her mind was filled with one big word: PAIN.
Damn it, my right wrist is already bruised purple, and it hurts like hell with the slightest movement.
That classless brute!
