Can Not Win Me Back Chapter 1787-Angelina glared at the door with a threatening gleam in her eyes. She raised her arm, pointing her gun at the man who barged into the villa.
Right as she was about to pull the trigger, the intruder swiftly kicked her weapon away. The pain in her hand caused her to sweat over the forehead.
Before she had a chance to breathe, she snatched a fruit knife from the coffee table and aimed it at his chest. The two engaged in a hair-raising battle.
Angelina was trained in Close Quarters Combat, a technique learned by assassins, from a young age. However, she gradually found herself weakening after ten rounds of fighting with the devilish intruder, who was a killing machine.
She narrowly missed a few of his fatal attacks, nearly getting her throat slit.
“Ouch—” Soon, the intruder figured out the flaw in her technique and attacked her accordingly. He pinned her arm, grabbed the knife from her, and kicked her hard on the back.
Angelina limply collapsed onto the floor after the attack. As if that weren’t enough, the intruder stabbed her in the left leg with the knife to render her completely defenseless.
“You are… You’re not from the Harper Group. No one from the Harper Group acts in the way you do!” The excruciating pain made her see stars. Even then, she did not cry and beg for mercy. Gritting her teeth, she trembled in agony.
She questioned, “Who sent you? Who are you working for?”
Remy remained silent in the face of her interrogation. As a professional assassin, he always strove to speak less and work more.
Although the villa had exceptional soundproofing qualities, Lauren stirred awake after hearing the huge commotion downstairs. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly sat up in bed, only for silence to return, as though everything that had happened was an illusion.
She put on her jacket, hugged her teddy bear, and slowly made her way to the first floor. “Angie? Angie?”
She inhaled sharply halfway through the stairs because Angelina was nowhere to be found. All she could see was Remy sitting carelessly on the couch and peeling an apple with the knife.
“Who. Who are you?” Holding her breath, she felt her legs shaking.
Remy looked up coldly and emotionlessly at the pretty young lady. “Are you Ms.
Lauren?”
Lauren froze at the question. She did not move or answer him, but her silence was a tacit admission.
She shook her head with a frantic look in her eyes.
“Where’s Angie?” Staring squarely at him, she quietly unlocked her phone behind her back.