Secrets Of The Neglected Wife

Chapter 492:

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Allison’s words dripped with thinly veiled sarcasm, and Gordon’s smile widened, though his eyes remained cold as he looked at Carole.

“Precisely, Miss Perry. Perhaps your time would be better spent persuading Mr. Lloyd to stop bothering Allison. I might even send you a thank-you gift for your trouble.”

A thank-you gift?

Carole saw nothing but blatant hostility in Gordon’s eyes. At that moment, a chill ran through her, as though a wolf was closing in on her. She instinctively took a step back, only to hit the corner of the table, jolting her and causing her face to pale with pain.

“N-no… that won’t be necessary,” she stammered.

Gordon had been brave enough to offer it, but there was no way she’d feel comfortable accepting it.

The tension in the room thickened, a static charge humming beneath every word and glance.

Gordon flashed a harmless grin at Allison, but his voice carried an undercurrent of something sharper. “Allison, there’s a lot of noise here. Why don’t we find somewhere else to talk?”

His hand, resting on the table, appeared oddly pristine, unmarred except for faint red traces at his knuckles.noveldrama

“Alright,” Allison replied, beginning to rise, only to feel a strong, iron grip snap around her wrist, pulling her back with undeniable force.

Kellan’s hand was clenched tight, veins raised along his forearm, thrumming with raw intensity.

He loomed over them, his face half-shadowed, eyes smoldering like a storm on the verge of breaking. His stance and gaze radiated the kind of threat that could pull everyone around him into a dark abyss.

Allison frowned, unsettled. In all the years she’d known him, even at his most furious, Kellan had always kept a leash on his temper.

But now, his restraint was fraying, unraveling in front of her.

“Let her go.” Gordon’s smile drained, his eyes hardening as he squared off against Kellan.

There was a quiet, simmering violence in his gaze, an unspoken promise of pain.

His voice dropped to a chill that cut through the air.

From beneath the shadowed cast of his face, Kellan’s dark gaze met Gordon’s unflinchingly. “And if I say no?”

“Kellan!” Gordon’s face darkened further, his easy composure slipping, overtaken by a coiled, latent hostility.

Without a word, he lunged forward, fist drawn back, aiming for Kellan with a precise, calculated strike. But with a loud crash, his fist swung through empty air, hitting nothing.

The coffee on the table teetered, then spilled over in a slow wave as the table shuddered beneath his missed punch.

In the blink of an eye, Allison was gone.

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