"Ah! You are hurting me, Paul," I shouted as well.
"Do you think I care?" Paul spoke, and I started trying to loosen his grip, but I was not able to.
"Paul!" I arched my brows while saying, "I think my dad is at home; if I shouted for help, you can assume what could have happened."
Paul softened his gaze as he heard me. But suddenly he spoke out with a heavy tone, "as if I care, Elena? Do you think I am fucking afraid of your dad? Don't ever think about it."
I sighed as I squeezed my eyes slightly while thinking, 'This mad boy will make me crazy like him. I need to manage him by telling him something.'
"Paul, I am tired. Can we talk in the room?" I said.
There was a 90 percent chance he would say no to me, which he urged me about last night. Paul kept his gaze on me and suddenly loosened his grip on my waist and said, "You look so tired. I think we should talk in the room."
