The Fate of Love

Chapter 22 Things Happened Four Years Ago

I continued to sneer, "Carol has any upbringings? A woman acts as a concubine and arrogantly derails

husband of another women. Samson Finn! What upbringing makes us misunderstanding about these?"

"Sharon Sandra!" He gritted his teeth with every word seemed to be squeezed from the depths of his

throat, "You should be lucky, I won't beat a woman."

I laughed, "Mr. Finn is really generous, but can I trouble you to let me go? What you are doing now is

hitting a woman."

Samson said in a cold and violent voice, "You are unqualified to judge Carol, you don’t deserve it!"

He turned around coldly.

I did not deserve it? I stepped forward and grabbed him, "Yes, I don’t deserve it. You are really

disgusting."

After speaking, I returned to the original seat.

Carol still smirked pretentiously, "Sister Sharon..."

I poured all the snacks and porridge on her head.

I said, "Carol Lucinda, I wonder what makes you so disgusting, but remember, you can’t avoid getting

shoes wet along the river."

"Since you love second-hand so much, then I will send Samson to you. Keep the scumbag in your

house!"

"Sharon Sandra!" A rampage voice came from the door.

I didn't notice it as I was at least smooth and upright compared to their contemptible.Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

Then I walked out of the restaurant, but my wrist was dragged tightly by him. I got angry and bit.

He didn’t care but drove me back.

The bumps made me nauseous.

Fortunately, we arrived soon, and then I was taken into the bedroom.

"Bang!" The entire villa trembled.

"Samson, let me go, you are not a man." I was flustered.

He sneered, "I'm not a man? I’m a disgusting scumbag?"

His strength increased, "Sharon, you surprised me too much."

Four angry eyes encountered.

For a long time, I couldn't breathe and the dizziness hit me for a moment. He wanted to strangle me!

Then he released me but suddenly kissed me.

My heart was ups and downs, "Samson Finn, this is all you can do, you bastard."

He sneered.

I panicked and said in a tremble voice, "Samson, you can't come in!"

He adjusted his posture.

I said in a panic, "Samson, you will regret it!"

He just paused slightly, "Don’t worry, I'll be gentle!"

Son of a bitch!

I broke down completely.

He stopped, comforting me softly. The more he spoke, the louder I cried.

In the end, it was useless from gentle coaxing to loud threats.

After a long time, my throat became hoarse and my tears were gone. Then I was silent.

"Enough?" He spoke.

I didn't respond.

"Four years ago, I sent my grandpa to the southwest border to meet his old comrades-in-arms, and met

a group of desperadoes on the road." He put his arms around me and suddenly spoke, sounded a little

bit disconsolate and more desolate than I had ever seen.

He continued, “The border was poor with scarce supplies. At that time, several border countries were

fighting each other. To seek asylum, those desperadoes broke into our house, and tried to threaten us

to bring them in. The situation was urgent at that time. Undocumented people were not allowed to

sneak in the country. Grandpa was a veteran soldier who has guarded the country for decades. He

would rather die than follow. But they were desperadoes and wanted to kill us. Grandpa’s old comrade-

in-arms sacrificed to cover us."