When Love Comes Late
Chapter 1417

With a sinister grin, he sat up and began unbuttoning his shirt.

Flossie closed her eyes in despair as she felt him inch closer.

Then, a loud crash filled the room, glass breaking with a sharp crack.

As Flossie’s eyes fluttered open, she found herself in a scene of utter chaos.

Behind a visibly wounded Carl stood Benny, his gaze indifferent, holding a broken bottle.

Blood continued to trickle through Carl’s fingers as he held his injured forehead in agony.

With a tense and focused demeanor, Benny let go of the broken bottle, swiftly seizing Flossie’s hand as he attempted to lead her to safety.

“Don’t let them get away!” At Carl’s command, the gang members swiftly closed in, blocking Benny and Flossie’s path.

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Benny shielded Flossie, bravely confronting the approaching group.

An uneasy sensation washed over Flossie, compelling her to clutch Benny’s sleeve, paralyzed by fear and unable to make a single move.

Looking at the blood on his hand, Carl ordered angrily, “Kill this man! Keep the woman alive.

I’ll have some fun with her! Damn it!”

Following orders, the gang members charged towards Benny.

With a swift kick, Benny lifted his unhurt leg, repelling them with all his might.

Caught in the crossfire, the remaining gang members stumbled and fell to the floor, their attempts thwarted.

The once tightly sealed circle now revealed its vulnerabilities, exposed by the disruption caused by Benny’s strategic resistance.

Guiding Flossie to the door, Benny pushed her outside, instructing, “Run!”

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Subsequently, a surge of individuals rushed towards him, intent on launching an attack.

Benny skillfully pinned one person to the floor, delivering a decisive blow.

Turning towards Flossie, he shouted, “Run!”

Positioning himself at the exit, he effectively blocked the path, thwarting any attempts by the others to pursue Flossie.

In the grip of panic, Flossie comprehended Benny’s intent.

He aimed to afford her the crucial time she needed to escape and seek help.

As Flossie sprinted towards the exit, she crossed paths with a waiter.

Halting him, she pleaded, “Please help me.

My friend is in trouble.

”

Curious, the waiter inquired, “Which room?”

Flossie pointed towards the private room, her desperation evident.

The waiter shook his head.

“I can’t help with that.

”