"Who are you?"
Finally, Joan became sober. Horror-stricken, she wrapped her arms across her chest. What's going on? What do they plan to do? Are they Jake's men? No, Jake's henchmen won't be so rough to me.Hold on, does it mean that there's someone else besides Jake, who knows where I'm hiding? Having her guards up, Joan tried to connect the dots and form a big picture.
"It doesn't matter who we are. All you need to know is that somebody wants you dead," one of the men warned.
His words sent a cold chill down the old woman's spine.
Joan stared at the gang in confusion. In this world, only Della wants me dead. Besides her, I can't think of a second person who hates me that much. Then again, how did Della discover my whereabouts?
"Move!" pointing at Joan, the man ordered fiercely.
"No way!" the old woman blocked in front of Joan to protect her, fearful of what awaited her next.
"Ma'am, this is my personal problem. Let me resolve it on my own, okay?" Joan said promptly, patting her on the shoulder. She was resolute not to drag the innocent old couple into the mess that she was in. They had been too kind to her to be harmed unfairly.
The old woman stared at her and shook her head, hoping that she would not react rashly.
Joan believed that all the good and bad experiences that she had were already predestined. If God doesn't want me to live for one more day, I'll never be able to overcome the misfortune one after another even if I could escape to the ends of the world. My days are numbered; it's fated.
"Don't go with them, Joan," the old woman said, weeping.
Meanwhile in the office, Jake was staring blankly at Joan's photo on his phone screen.
"Mr. Wilson," Ted alerted him, "Ms. Watts is in trouble."
He stood up right away and zoomed out of his office like a flash. Damn it, which bastard dares to lay a finger on my woman? He's courting death!
When he arrived at the beach, Joan had already disappeared.
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