Too Late She Already Married Mr. Right (Sophia) novel Chapter 187

Chapter 187

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“That asshole Lucas! How could he do this to Sophie?” Annabelle yelled, her voice trembling with outrage.

“Tying her to a tree like this? What the hell is wrong with him–is he trying to kill her or something?‘ Annabelle cursed inwardly, fury boiling over inside her.

Richard’s eyes went cold as he stared at Sophia–her face was almost blue, her lips utterly bloodless.

“Got it off yet?” he demanded, voice tight with urgency.

The tie was knotted in a death grip, rain soaking everything, and the pitch–black darkness making it even harder–untying it felt hopeless.

Annabelle struggled endlessly, but the tie wouldn’t budge.

Frustrated, she kicked the tree hard. “This damn tie is tied in a death knot. It’s impossible to get off. If I’d known, I would’ve brought a knife.”

Richard barked out, “There’s a Swiss Army knife in my suit pocket–grab it and cut the tie, but don’t nick her hands!”

Annabelle shot him a glare. “You seriously had a knife and only mention it now?” She almost yelled over the storm, totally exasperated.

Annabelle couldn’t even tell what was streaming down her face–rain or sweat. She wiped it away and quickly reached into Richard’s pocket.

Sure enough, she pulled out a solid, heavy folding knife. Popping it open, Annabelle made sure to steer clear of Sophia’s hands and sliced clean through the soaked tie.

As soon as Sophia’s hands were free, Richard scooped her up and bolted down the hillside, not slowing for a second.

Just as they reached the path, Lucas was already there, standing like the Grim Reaper in the pouring rain, as if he’d been waiting for them.

He was clutching a bunch of wild chrysanthemums, beaten to bits by the storm, his eyes blazing as he stared Richard down.

“Let her go. Don’t forget–she’s still my wife,” Lucas growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Richard’s fury was nearly palpable as he set Sophia down, letting Annabelle steady her.

He shrugged off his suit jacket, slipped it around Sophia’s shoulders, then popped his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, ready for action.

“If you’re so desperate for a beating, I’ll give you what you want,” Richard spat, icy malice in his tone.

Richard’s fists flashed out–quick, ruthless, and devastating. He’d had professional boxing training abroad,

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Chapter 187

and he knew how to drop someone in just a few moves.

Lucas, who’d spent his whole life chasing pleasure and luxury, didn’t stand a chance against him.

Lucas barely dodged the first punch, but after that, every one of Richard’s blows landed solidly–Luck was powerless to defend himself.

After a dozen punishing hits, Lucas was on the ground, coughing up blood. The wildflowers he’d brought were scattered in the mud, trampled to pulp by Richard’s boots.

Lucas dropped down on his knees, wiping blood off his mouth, and sneered, “Damn, Mr. Sterling, you really are an eye–opener. Guess you just love messing around with bitches, huh?”

Annabelle was absolutely livid.

“Lucas, did you literally eat shit or what? Your mouth reeks worse than a sewer!” she snapped, shaking with

rage.

Lucas grinned, cruel and twisted. “Richard, she’s used goods now–all trashed by me. As long as I don’t agree to the divorce, you’ll forever be that pathetic lover hiding in the dark, never worth showing in the light!”

Richard jerked at his tie, then went in with a ruthless spin kick–clean, fast, no hesitation.

Lucas went face–first into the nasty mud, zero mercy.

Richard stomped over, every step like a hungry wolf ready to pounce. He slammed his boot right down on Lucas’s face.

“Mr. Westwood, if you can’t talk like a human, I’ll teach you myself.” With that, Richard ground his boot into Lucas’s face, making sure he got the message.

Lucas felt the jagged rocks grinding against his face, heat and pain flaring up as if his skin was getting torn off.

Humiliated beyond words, he struggled uselessly. In his mind, he was cursing Richard to hell and back.

But with Richard’s boot grinding into his cheek, he couldn’t make a sound. Cold sweat ran down his spine.

Richard leaned over, putting even more pressure on his foot. “Trash like you? You think you deserve a wife?”

Then he slammed his foot into Lucas, booting him straight into the muddy ditch.

There was a loud splash as Lucas was kicked straight into the ditch.

Water exploded everywhere, drenching him from head to toe.

Groggy and dazed, it took Lucas ages to claw his way out.

He scrubbed at the grimy water on his face and looked up, only to catch sight of Richard carrying Sophia away–their figures vanishing into the storm, leaving him stuck in the mud.

Furious, Lucas lashed out with a kick, only to slam his foot into a jagged rock.

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For a split second, he could swear he heard his bone crack. A scream ripped from his throat, and he nearly blacked out from the pain.

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