Her back hit the sofa and almost knocked the wind out of her. There was a loud buzz in Jennifer's head as if she was about to faint. She almost didn't see Hans making his way over. She only sobered up when he towered over her.
Holding the torn collar of her shirt, she clenched her teeth and retreated to the corner of the sofa.
"You want me to do it myself?"
Hans's eyes were cold as ice. He reached out and grabbed her delicate ankle. She didn't dare to move any more out of reflex.
"Hans... please... I beg you..."
She sobbed and looked at him pitifully, showing her survival instinct intermittently.
Hans coldly looked past her cheeks stared into her eyes.
She trembled and bit her lower lip. Although she was pained deep down, she dared not say a word.
Hans always had the final say in this family. Sometimes he might listen to the old Mrs. Miller, but other than that, he was a complete dictator. His tendency to torment people was very obvious in the way he treated Jennifer.
Her warm tears grew cold as they rolled down her cheeks and reached her chin, staggering on the verge of splattering on the floor.
Hans looked at Jennifer in front of him. He looked at her helplessness as she begged for mercy. He watched as tears rolled down her cheeks and she shivered because she was too scared of the way he looked at her.
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