Early morning.
Eric woke up. His head was dizzy and heavy, so much so that he could not lift it up.
It was rare how drunk he was last night. He did not drink much, but that kind of drunkenness surged.
It was really shocking that he could not hang on even with his alcohol tolerance.
The next second, a tan arm climbed up and pulled his arm. A tired and hoarse voice with a bit of post-sex coquettishness rang out. "Eric, why don't you sleep a little longer?"
Eric’s face instantly changed.
His cold eyes looked to the side.
The woman was lying there with disheveled clothes. Her eyes were closed, and the makeup on her side profile still looked like a certain someone in his heart.
However, now that he was awake, Eric knew that it was not Nicole. This woman was the arms dealer, Angie.
Needless to say, Eric knew what happened with the way she looked at this moment.
Without any mercy or hesitation, Eric reached out and clasped her neck with his slender fingers. His voice was hoarse to a frightening degree like his throat was ground with sandpaper.
"You set this trap, didn't you?"
His hand tightened as a dangerous thought flashed through his mind.
He wanted to kill her.
No one could hold him accountable.
Now, that would explain why Eric had been dizzy last night after a little bit of wine. It was her!
Angie woke up in a flash. Her hands struggled ineffectively to break free of his grasp, but she could not.
Her face slowly turned blue and purple. Even breathing became difficult. This continued for a long time, and it felt like she was really going to die.
However, suddenly there was a continuous knock at the door.
During Eric's daze, Angie jerked her head away, broke free of Eric's grasp, and sat up to breathe heavily.
It had only been half a minute, but Angie felt as if she had walked through hell.
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