Looking at her twisted and pained expression, Lamont felt more anger than anything else.
"I warned you not to lay a hand on my woman. You'd be wise not to test my patience, or else I may not be able to restrain myself from taking your life."
Revenge? In his heart, had he already become a murderer?
Leila suddenly found herself ridiculously hopeful, hoping that the man before her could see her pain and have a moment of softness.
She forced a bitter smile, terrifyingly calm.
"What are you laughing at?"
Lamont's grip on her tightened.
Leila was nearly unable to breathe, her eyes wide and fixed on Lamont's handsome face.
Only then Lamont regained some of his senses, revealing an impatient expression. He grabbed Leila by the neck and threw her hard to the side.
Leila fell directly to the ground, her arm hitting the corner of the table.