Her gaze fell on the man's neck, the bloodstains dried up, her beautiful eyes narrowing slightly, "If we had no personal grievances, Mr. Owen...I would have a great deal of admiration for you."
She let go of his hand, then patted his cheek a few times. As the man frowned, she extended her long leg and suddenly straddled his thighs.
Fierce Eagle was shocked, and the next second, the woman had drawn a short knife from her waist. She removed the rose gold sheath, revealing a blade about seven centimeters long that gleamed threateningly on the man's face, its edge cold and sharp.
The dagger was pressed directly against the wound on the man's chest. With a flick of her wrist, the scabbed wound reopened and bled afresh, mingling with the previous dark traces of blood.
Fierce Eagle didn't even furrow his brow, just staring at the woman's seductive face with a cold, mocking smile.
