She ran swiftly, but it was no use. As soon as she lifted her foot to rush forward, Atlas Hallow moved with the swiftness of a hunting panther, taking two steps forward. With a big hand, he clasped Charlotte Miller's slender wrist and forcefully pulled her over, pressing her against the hood of his car.
Charlotte looked at him, his face full of drunkenness, his eyes filled with a bloodthirsty hostility, extremely terrifying.
"What? Do you hate me so much? So much that you won't even say goodbye?" His deep, hoarse voice, laden with the scent of alcohol, breathed heavily onto her face, and Charlotte turned away, unwilling to speak more.
"Speak, damn it..." Her expression, as if she'd seen a ghost, only fueled Atlas Hallow's anger. Staring at her face, captivating enough to incite crime, he felt an urge to tear her apart and swallow her whole.
