Silent Dreams Never Die — Author: John Miller 349
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“I didn’t do it on purpose. Why should I apologize?” Naomi wasn’t about to back down, so she shot back defiantly.
The woman clearly wasn’t one to be trifled with. Without another word, she grabbed Naomi by the hair, yanking her head back.
Leaning down, she spat directly into Naomi’s partly open mouth.
Naomi swallowed it reflexively, then immediately gagged, retching violently.
But the woman didn’t care. She slapped Naomi hard across the face. “You think my spit’s beneath you? You should be honored. Calling me dirty? You’re really asking for it.”
The slap left Naomi dazed. When she regained her senses, she instinctively shouted toward the booth, “Luke!”
Maybe the commotion had already drawn attention–Luke hadn’t heard her shout, but he noticed the crowd staring in one direction.
Following their gaze, he saw Naomi being assaulted.
Luke couldn’t stay seated. He jumped up from the booth and yelled, “Hey! What the hell are you doing? Touch my friend again and you’ll regret it!”
The woman ignored him completely.
Infuriated, Luke started toward them, ready to step in.
But as he got closer, the woman suddenly pulled out a folding knife and, without hesitation, slashed it across Naomi’s face.
A piercing scream echoed through the bar.
At the sight, Luke’s legs froze mid–step.
The woman wasn’t done. She slashed twice more.
Within moments, Naomi’s face was a mask of blood.
Naomi clutched her face, crying out, “Luke! Help me, please!”
She looked toward him, and drops of blood dripped into her eyes.
Seeing her horrific condition, Luke felt his strength drain away.
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Chapter 349 A Vengeful Reckoning
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Daniel and Harris had also stepped out of the booth. They steadied Luke, who seemed on the verge of collapse, but made no move to intervene.
Their duty was to protect Luke–Vincent’s brother. As for Naomi…
Naomi saw
Luke hanging back and Daniel and Harris standing silently by.
In that moment, the physical pain faded beneath a crushing sense of betrayal.
After disfiguring her face, the woman even climbed on top of Naomi and beat her further.
As blood loss took its toll, Naomi finally blacked out.
When she woke, she saw a figure sitting by the window.
Through blurred vision, she made out a straight, imposing silhouette.
Instinctively, she whispered, “Luke?”
The person turned in the chair.
Naomi’s vision cleared enough to recognize a face that had haunted her for a long time.
She would never forget that day at the charity gala–how Damian had humiliated her, shown her not an ounce of respect.
She watched as Damian walked toward the bed. A faint, cold smile touched his handsome features. “Were you calling for me?”
Realizing it was him, Naomi stiffened. “Why are you here? Where’s Luke?”
Hearing her still ask for Luke, Damian let out a derisive laugh. “That coward? What did you expect him to do?”
Naomi’s slashed face was now wrapped in bandages.
She stared at Damian warily. “What do you want?”
Damian leaned down and tapped her forehead lightly. “Does it hurt?”
Confused, Naomi shook her head.
His expression darkened instantly. “It doesn’t hurt?” he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous low.
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There was a threat coiled beneath his words that made Naomi’s skin crawl.
Before she could reply, Damian’s demeanor shifted. His hand shot out and pressed directly against the wounded flesh beneath the bandages.
He pressed slowly, deliberately, then suddenly squeezed with brutal force.
Naomi screamed, her body convulsing in agony.
Damian easily pinned her shoulder with his other hand, never relenting his grip on her wound.
Tears streamed down Naomi’s face as her whole body trembled from the pain.
Damian showed no mercy. Only when fresh blood began to seep through the bandages did he lean close, his voice icy. “Now tell me… does it hurt?”
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