The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 11

Petty. The nerve of her, ruining his business like that.

She had posted a scathing article online, and the fallout was huge. The bar he’d spent over half a year building was shut down overnight. He’d been waiting for a chance to pay her back ever since.

That day, he’d planned to have his guys rough her up, take turns with her, snap some incriminating photos, and use them to keep her under his thumb. But somehow, Petty had gotten lucky and slipped away.

He never expected her to show up in front of him today.

“Not afraid of dying, are you?” Hassan pressed a towel to the cut on his head, scowling as blood stained the fabric. That bitch actually smashed a bottle over his head. He’d managed to dodge the second swing, or it would’ve been even worse, but the wound was bad enough—bleeding everywhere, making him look like a fool in front of everyone.

He was not going to let her walk away from this.

He leaned in, his face twisted with a crooked smile. “Don’t think you’ll get lucky every time.”

“You still trying to sue me?” he sneered.

He had picked the day Laura returned to send his guys after Petty. Even if Franco found out, he was sure Laura would step in for him. But then Petty called the cops, and the police traced it back to him. Franco had actually covered for him, just like he’d hoped.

Clearly, Petty meant nothing to Franco. What kind of husband stands by while his wife gets beaten and does nothing? Franco must truly hate her.

“My sister only needs to say one word and Franco will protect me. But you? He doesn’t care about you at all, does he? Petty, this is payback for stealing my sister’s boyfriend three years ago.”

Petty’s expression went stiff.

Seeing her freeze up, Hassan let out a low, cold laugh. “You’ll regret what you did today.”

He howled in pain and dropped to his knees. The other man barely had time to catch on before Petty’s right leg shot up. The heel of her shoe slammed into his thigh, and he crumpled, screaming, to the ground.

Holding the bloody blade, Petty glared down at the two men writhing in pain.

She didn’t care which one had kicked her before. One leg each. That was fair.

She’d been caught off guard that night, but did they really think a journalist like her couldn’t defend herself? Hans had made sure she learned some real self-defense moves. She was a bit rusty after skipping practice during her pregnancy last year, but it was enough when she needed it.

If Hans found out she’d been attacked, he’d drop everything, abandon his entire film crew, and fly straight to her side. She wasn’t about to let him think she couldn’t handle her own payback.

“Come on, all of you. Try me.”