Blood on His Hands

Clara panickedly reached out to cover her belly, while her other hand instinctively dug her nails into Declan's wrist. She muttered, "It hurts."

Declan, driven by rage, had lost his mind. He dragged Clara to the gazebo and forcefully threw her onto the stone table. He began to tear at her clothes aggressively.

"Don't," Clara pleaded, her hand pressed against Declan's shoulder, her face filled with