Can’t Win Me Back

With a piercing gaze, Sheryl glared at Remy, who stood in front of her car with an air of frigidity around him.

The temptation to ram her car into the crestfallen man was almost irresistible, but she didn't dare.

Remy was Justin's right-hand man, and even her audacity had limits.

Instead, Sheryl pulled her white coat snugly around her, stepped out of the car with feigned composure, and strode toward him.

Hostility crackled between them as their eyes locked.

Sheryl broke the silence.

"Remy, is there nothing you'd like to update me about?" she asked with a sinister look in her eyes.

Stiffly, Remy asked, "Where did you take that woman?" "How shameless of you to question me.

Mr. Justin was wise to send me as backup.

Otherwise, Amber would have escaped without a trace!" Gritting her teeth, Sheryl took a step closer to Remy.

you handle tasks entrusted by Mr. Justin? The unstoppable Remy, brought to his knees by a wild brat? Or did you let her go

gloved hands curled into fists, his jaw

word betray hit harder than he cared

a thought, yet Shery]'s accusation

and rigid, her words left

for his collar, but Remy stepped

snarled, "Remy, I'm warning

of yours exists only

you, and your corpse would've rotted on the shore! "So,

Mr. Justin's loyal

make sure your end is worse than being shark bait!" Before she could gloat further, a sharp pain exploded across

became a dizzying blur as she spun through the air before slamming into

are you calling a dog?" Remy's glacial stare fell on Sheryl's

as he spoke, each word sharp as ice, "If I'm a dog, what does that make you? Nothing but a powerless bitch, all bark and no substance." Sheryl's hands shot to her bloodied nose

in plastic surgery and monthly maintenance that ran to tens of thousands—and now Remy's punch had

like a concussion, pain blazed white-hot

you're one of Mr. Justin's

reason to slit your throat." Sheryl