Chapter 338 Chloe Got Beaten Up
Chloe was fuming. How dare Harper slap her! And right in front of Francis, the guy she adored.
Chloe's eyes burned with anger. This crazy woman finally showed her true colors. "You evil witch, you made me drink that. I heard your kid was sick and mute, right? Well, that's your karma. You deserve a messed-up kid. She'll probably turn out just like you!"
Chloe, losing it, kept provoking Harper. She wanted Francis to see Harper's real side. Harper's sweet act was just a front! She was really a venomous snake!
Just as Chloe hoped, Harper's slap landed on her face. And then two more followed.
Harper was so mad she couldn't speak. She just wanted to slap Chloe for cursing Agnes.
Chloe was a witch, a monster, a total bitch. Just as Harper raised her hand again, someone pulled her back—it was Francis.
In her rage, Harper turned and slapped Francis hard.
She didn't hold back. "Let go of me!"
Harper's face was tight with anger.
Francis's pale, handsome face stung.
Harper's eyes were cold, full of fury.
Right now, she was like a porcupine, all spikes out, ready to fight.
'No one could curse Agnes, no one!' she fumed.
Harper snapped, "You want to protect her?"
If so, he deserved that slap.
Francis held her flailing arms and turned to the bodyguards, his voice icy. "Get her."
The bodyguards got it, one holding Chloe down while the other started slapping her.
Seeing Francis still cold, the bodyguard didn't stop.
A man was stronger than Harper. After a few slaps, Chloe's mouth was swollen and bloody, unrecognizable.
Chloe couldn't make a sound, just a pitiful whimper.
Francis didn't even look at her; he turned to Harper's red palm, his heart aching.
His voice was hoarse, "If you want to slap her, just say so. Doesn't it hurt?"
His concern made Harper's breath catch. That slap, he didn't seem to feel it, didn't mind it at all; he was worried about her.
Seeing Harper's red palm, Francis couldn't hide his pain.
He held her wrist, "Let's go to the car. There's medicine."
Harper tried to pull her hands back, saying it looked red but wasn't serious.
But Francis held tight. "Be good. Let's go to the car."
Beside them, Chloe, her mouth numb from the beating, heard Francis talking about leaving and struggled to speak. Her lips were almost peeled off by the bodyguard's slaps, revealing bloody flesh, looking horrifying and disgusting.
The bodyguard had slapped Chloe so many times there wasn't a spot of good skin left.
Francis, holding Harper's shoulders, glanced at Chloe on the ground and ordered, "Take that waiter too. Send them to the police station."
The waiter, pale with fear, didn't even dare to beg for mercy after seeing Chloe's misery.
Francis was too terrifying; the waiter would rather go to jail—it seemed safer.
Hearing this, Chloe panicked. If she went to jail, those wealthy women would find ways to kill her.
With a good lawyer, her bad deeds might not result in a long sentence, but a criminal record would ruin her in Northfield.
Chloe would never rise again. No way! She couldn't go to jail.
With only her eyes still clear, Chloe glared venomously at Harper.
Then, she turned to Francis.
With tears welled up, her hands pounding the ground, she looked extremely pitiful, as if begging for mercy.
Harper turned back, marched towards Chloe, and said coldly, "Now you know what it feels like?"
Chloe couldn't speak, feeling like countless ants were crawling all over her, both itchy and painful.
This feeling was unbearable. Her lips moved up and down indistinctly, struggling to say, "Bitch,"
Harper could tell the drug was taking effect. She remembered the despair she felt when Maurice dragged her to the sofa.
At the same time, she had to fight against the agitation in her body, like countless ants crawling over her. That feeling of living in hell, she remembered clearly.
Harper wasn't a saint, feeling no sympathy for Chloe, and coldly smiled, "What you're feeling now is what I suffered. Enjoy it."
If she hadn't been strong-willed, fighting to save herself until rescue came, she might have been violated that night.
Afterwards, Harper shuddered to recall it.
Chloe could do this to her, so she would do it to others too. Now, this was just karma. She was reaping what she sowed!
Chloe's swollen lips repeatedly muttered, "Bitch, bitch..."
Harper smirked, "You should be grateful I'm not as vicious as you. You're just tasting your own medicine."
With that, she turned to leave.
Chloe, her eyes blurred with tears, saw Francis trying to hold Harper's hand, only to be shaken off. But even so, he still looked at her carefully, like she was a precious treasure.
The stark contrast made Chloe's jealousy and resentment grow even stronger. Her eyes red, her terrifying face twisted with rage.
"Bitch!" Chloe hoarsely shouted, her voice like a broken, leaking drum, extremely unpleasant.
"Die!" Chloe, like a madwoman, clutched the broken stem of a wine glass, and suddenly charged at Harper.
Everything happened in an instant; the bodyguards didn't have time to react. By the time they realized, it was too late!
The broken glass stem, like a sharp dagger, glinted menacingly under the chandelier.
Chloe gripped it tightly, aiming for Harper's neck, and thrust it forward!
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
