The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 12

Hassan’s face went pale, twisted with rage as he yelled, “Are you all useless? Can’t even handle one woman?”

He had at least ten bodyguards. Petty immediately stepped back.

These men were clearly professionals. She was no match for them in a head-on fight. Instead of charging in, she quickly glanced back toward the way she’d come.

This was Hassan’s turf. She had walked straight into the lion’s den, but she wouldn’t have come without a plan.

So where were the bodyguards she’d hired from the security company? She had arranged every detail. There shouldn’t be a mistake.

What went wrong?

While Petty was surrounded, one of Hassan’s men snuck up from the side and grabbed her arms, locking her in place.

Hassan, face smeared with blood, leaned in close and wrapped his hand around her throat. “You’re wild, Petty. Let’s see how far that gets you tonight.”

He squeezed with no mercy, leaving her no chance to breathe. Petty’s face started to go blue, but she stayed silent. Her eyes locked on Hassan with a look that said he wasn’t worth the dirt on her shoe.

“You must have a death wish,” Hassan spat, shaking with fury.

“Stop!”

A woman’s voice rang out nearby, sharp and commanding.

The hand at Petty’s throat hesitated.

“How did you get here?” Hassan turned, expecting Laura. But it wasn’t her.

It was a man, cool and dignified, standing next to a wheelchair.

The instant Hassan met his eyes—black and bottomless—he felt a chill run through him.

Franco? Why was Franco here?

Petty looked past Hassan’s shoulder. The second she saw the man, her face went white as chalk. She stared at him, stunned, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

In that moment, everything clicked.

Suddenly, a hand clamped around her wrist.

The grip was so strong she couldn’t even struggle. Her hand went limp, the knife clattering to the ground.

Jay frowned. “Petty.”

Even he looked surprised by how far she’d gone.

Petty stayed kneeling, out of breath, glancing up as Jay let go and picked up the knife.

Jay was Franco’s personal bodyguard. He only listened to Franco.

She let out a low, bitter laugh. “So, he can send people to kill me whenever he wants, but if I want him dead, I need your permission?”

A piece of glass had sliced her cheek when the bottle broke. Blood streaked down the side of her face.

Jay hesitated, realization dawning on his face. His heart skipped a beat as he glanced instinctively at Franco, standing a little distance away.