CHAPTER 97 A Man Always Takes Care of His Own Wife

  "Better not move, or I'm not sure if I'll slip."

  The man who had me in his grip gave a low warning.

  A scream nearly escaped my throat, but I forced it back.

  There were quite a few people outside the hospital, but everyone was rushing around, no one really paying attention to me. Even if some noticed, there probably weren't many who would be willing to intervene.

  A white van screeched to a halt in front of me.

  "Get in the car," the man ordered.

  The knife's tip pressed against my waist, and I could feel the cold steel through my clothes.

  A wise man doesn't make a scene in such situations, so I obediently moved towards the van.

  The moment I put one foot on the step, I froze. I couldn't move the other leg either because I saw the familiar Maybach stop not far away.

  I almost saw a glimmer of hope and wanted to cry out for help from Lucas, ignoring the threat of the knife. But before I could do anything, I was shoved from behind and tumbled into the van.