MY MAN
A little bit of steam emitted from Gregory Frost's shiny black muzzle. He was holding a revolver.
He shot Mo Yuan.
'No…'
Han Luo was flustered. She reached out and tried to grasp Mo Yuan's shirt.
However, someone firmly held her hair and yanked her head.
"Ahh!" Han Luo yelped in pain. Her fingers brushed over Mo Yuan's shirt.
For a few centimeters gap, she couldn't touch him.
Before she knew it, her body was dragged away from him.
"Yuan!" she desperately called out to him.
"Ah Luo…" Mo Yuan growled like a wounded animal.
It was the first time he was shot. His eyes were blinded for a moment.
When he saw that Han Luo was being dragged out without mercy, he tried to reach out to her, wanting to grab her foot.
Bang!
Another bullet hit his arm that was outstretched to catch her. This time too, Gregory Frost shot him.
"Hng!" he let out a painful groan.