Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall - Chapter 12: Chapter 12
You are reading Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall, Chapter 12: Chapter 12. Read more chapters of Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall.
With every shout, he jerked Sable forward violently.
She screamed and sobbed, struggling desperately.
The crowd around them pointed and whispered, laughing and taking pictures.
"I didn't do anything! Callan, you're lying! You're making this shit up!"
Sable cried as she tried to defend herself:
"You're the one who's useless! You drove Rowan away yourself! It has nothing to do with me!"
"You lying bitch! Still trying to make excuses!"
Callan completely lost it and slapped her hard across the face.
The blow snapped Sable's head to the side, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.
She stared at Callan's face, twisted with rage and madness:
"Callan... what the hell do you want?"
"What do I want?"
Callan leaned in close with a sick grin, his breath reeking of alcohol:
"Hand over all those photos you took of Rowan, and all those fake receipts you helped me with!"
He tightened his grip on her hair:
"Or I'll post those videos of you with all those old perverts online! Let everyone see what you really are!"
Looking into Callan's crazy eyes, Sable knew he wasn't bluffing.
This lunatic who'd lost everything was capable of anything now.
She completely broke down, tears and snot streaming down her face as she kowtowed to him:
"I... I don't have anything! Just kill me, kill me!"
"You lying whore, you think I won't beat you to death!"
Callan viciously grabbed her hair and slammed her head toward the ground.
Finally, he found a USB drive in her purse.
Then he turned and stumbled toward the door.
He was going to tear off Rowan's respectable mask in front of everyone.
Callan staggered down the empty street, muttering to himself:
"Rowan, this time I'm gonna show you that without me, you're nothing!"
"Let's see if you ever dare leave me again, leave the Thorne family!"
Before Callan could make it to the Greaves building, he started coughing violently.
Dark red blood spattered onto the sidewalk.
Then his head hit the pavement with a dull thud.
Blood immediately pooled out, blurring his vision.
A passerby called 911.
The ambulance's piercing wail cut through the city's night sky.
A week later, a news story appeared in the local paper:
**Former Thorne Corp Heir Callan Thorne Found Unconscious on Street, Condition Critical**
My eyes scanned the headline calmly, without the slightest ripple of emotion.
The cage that had trapped me for eight years had finally crumbled to insignificant dust beneath my feet.
Outside my window, a bird spread its wings and soared into the deep sky, graceful and free.
She screamed and sobbed, struggling desperately.
The crowd around them pointed and whispered, laughing and taking pictures.
"I didn't do anything! Callan, you're lying! You're making this shit up!"
Sable cried as she tried to defend herself:
"You're the one who's useless! You drove Rowan away yourself! It has nothing to do with me!"
"You lying bitch! Still trying to make excuses!"
Callan completely lost it and slapped her hard across the face.
The blow snapped Sable's head to the side, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.
She stared at Callan's face, twisted with rage and madness:
"Callan... what the hell do you want?"
"What do I want?"
Callan leaned in close with a sick grin, his breath reeking of alcohol:
"Hand over all those photos you took of Rowan, and all those fake receipts you helped me with!"
He tightened his grip on her hair:
"Or I'll post those videos of you with all those old perverts online! Let everyone see what you really are!"
Looking into Callan's crazy eyes, Sable knew he wasn't bluffing.
This lunatic who'd lost everything was capable of anything now.
She completely broke down, tears and snot streaming down her face as she kowtowed to him:
"I... I don't have anything! Just kill me, kill me!"
"You lying whore, you think I won't beat you to death!"
Callan viciously grabbed her hair and slammed her head toward the ground.
Finally, he found a USB drive in her purse.
Then he turned and stumbled toward the door.
He was going to tear off Rowan's respectable mask in front of everyone.
Callan staggered down the empty street, muttering to himself:
"Rowan, this time I'm gonna show you that without me, you're nothing!"
"Let's see if you ever dare leave me again, leave the Thorne family!"
Before Callan could make it to the Greaves building, he started coughing violently.
Dark red blood spattered onto the sidewalk.
Then his head hit the pavement with a dull thud.
Blood immediately pooled out, blurring his vision.
A passerby called 911.
The ambulance's piercing wail cut through the city's night sky.
A week later, a news story appeared in the local paper:
**Former Thorne Corp Heir Callan Thorne Found Unconscious on Street, Condition Critical**
My eyes scanned the headline calmly, without the slightest ripple of emotion.
The cage that had trapped me for eight years had finally crumbled to insignificant dust beneath my feet.
Outside my window, a bird spread its wings and soared into the deep sky, graceful and free.
End of Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall Chapter 12. Continue reading Chapter 13 or return to Eight Years His Girlfriend, Thirty Days His Downfall book page.