"Dylan, you were so good at acting. That piece of paper is yours. So, it's not me who's infertile, it's you!" I squeezed the paper tightly, anger and disappointment mixed together.
I couldn't stay still. With all my might, I escaped through the warehouse window, clutching tightly all the evidence of Dylan's crimes.
"I have to hand these documents over to the police. I also need a lawyer," I muttered hurriedly, running in the darkness of the night.
However, my steps halted. My heart skipped a beat as the car's headlights shone on my body. Within seconds, my body was flung into the air, before finally hitting the asphalt hard.
I lay limp, my vision beginning to blur. A male figure walked over, his steps calm, full of satisfaction.
"You think you can report me, Gisella?" the voice sounded familiar, accompanied by a cold, ear-piercing laugh.
I tried to open my eyes, even though the pain all over my body made it difficult to move. "Dylan, it was you who hit me," my voice was weak, but my anger was still burning. I clutched the document in my hand, the only evidence of his crime.
However, Dylan easily snatched it away. His hands pressed against the wounds on my body, causing me even more pain.