NovelEnglish"Jacob!" Frey looked at Jacob and frowned.
"It's okay. I had an event today. It was urgent, so I was late." Jacob let go of Frey, sat down next to her, and picked up a bottle of beer on the table, glancing at Peyton, who looked stunned. "Ms. Peyton, I'm sorry, I'll treat you to dinner another day!" "No... it's alright..." Peyton felt something was wrong with him today, so she stood up and picked up a bottle of red wine.
"Mr. Jacob, con, drink this. You won't go huntil you're drunk today. I'll hire a driver to take you back later." The panic in Jacob's eyes disappeared, and he tightly grasped the beer bottle in his hand. He seemed to be pouring wine for Peyton and her friends. Suddenly, he turned around and hit Taylor, who was standing behind him, on the head with the bottle.
Taylor had followed them inside, thinking Jacob was playing strick. Unexpectedly, Jacob was really late and had to punish himself with a few drinks.
He didn't leave, just looked at him coldly. After all, Jacob was not a good person.
As soon as the word "good person" flashed through his mind, a wine bottle was slammed down in front of him.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAlthough Taylor hid quickly and turned his head sideways, he was still hit on half of his head, causing immediate sharp pain. Search the Findwebsite on Gøøgle to access chapters of early and in the highest quality.
The girls sitting there screamed, and Frey's eyes widened, but Jacob grabbed her wrist.
"Follow me!" Jacob growled. The moment Taylor was hit and bent over, Jacob rushed out of Peyton's tea shop with Frey.
"Bang bang bang!" There were three muffled gunshots in a row.
Although Taylor had put a silencer on the gun, there was still ssound, which easily attracted a lot of attention.
He didn't care anymore, kicked down the door of the milk tea shop, and chased after them.
Suddenly, Peyton was stunned by the scene in front of her. The wine bottle she held fell to the ground with a clang and broke into pieces.
After processing what happened, she hurriedly chased after them.
"Frey! Frey!" Peyton hurriedly turned back, grabbed the key to her electric car, and turned around to follow them.
The girls in the tea shop were completely confused about the situation.
When Jacob got out of his car, he hadn't taken out the key or even turned off the engine. His previous performances in front of Taylor were just to cover this up.
He opened the door and pushed Frey into the car. He almost flew into the cab. He didn't even have tto fasten his seat belt. He stepped on the accelerator and sped off.
With blood on his face and body, Taylor rushed into his car, started it, and gave chase. Sure enough, he was dozens of seconds slower than Jacob.
In just a few dozen seconds, Jacob escaped onto Vanara Avenue, then turned around a slope and drove off. Frey sat nervously in the back seat. Jacob's car was going so fast she couldn't sit still. Waves of dizziness cover her, making her feel nauseous.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm"Jacob! Are you crazy?" "What's going on!" Frey shouted out.
"No tto explain! Fasten your seat belt and head to the dock!" What dock? Frey didn't know what Jacob was talking about.
Frey felt that Jacob was no different from a madman at this moment. The his car turned left, and Frey almost flew out. She gritted her teeth and fastened her seat belt. Turning around and looking over, the black Bentley heading west behind them had gradually caught up.
Jacob's hobby was racing, playing in a punk style, whether it was am motorcycle or a four-wheel-drive racing car. He was very good at it. He often spent late nights racing with a group of his colleagues on a secluded coastal boulevard, racing with all kinds of luxury cars.
If it was someone else other than Taylor chasing them, then Jacob might have escaped this time.
But now Taylor was chasing behind him, and his driving skills were on par with Jacob's.
Frey's nerves were tense, and she felt that she might be killed along with with Jacob at any moment. She clenched at her fists tightly, feeling nauseous, and cold sweat broke out on her palms. X
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