Warning My Mommy is A Savage

chapter 1673

However strong Charmine was, she was still a young lady in her early twenties.

How horrible was he to have ruined someone like her?

Anthony's eyes were filled with pain, and his breaths grew uneven as the guilt and hurt racked his body.

Charmine quickly returned with the stretcher. She tied a rope around one end before tossing it into the pit.

Despite the pain she felt around her ankle, she endured it and staggered toward Harry, wanting to help him up on his feet before he shot her a cold stare. "You go first."

Dior frowned. "You can't move your legs now. Why are you getting up alone? If you fall again, I won't be able to live with myself!”

It was apparent how much she adored Harry by the look she had on her face.

Harry then thought of how it would be difficult for him to go up on his own.

Noticing that he was convinced, Dior reached out to help him. "You go first.

Don’t worry about me; I'll be right behind you."

Harry could only concede at this point.

After taking a few steps, however, Harry felt his fractured legs caving in and lost balance, falling to his side. NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

Dior's heart throbbed at the sight she reached out to hold him tightly but- "Argh!"

Dior felt as if her arms were torn when she stretched out her arms.

Instantly, the smell of blood wafted in the pit. She paled at the scent, and after she managed to pull Harry back up, she looked down at her arm.

There was a deep gash on her arm, one that she never noticed was present, and it only widened when she pulled Harry up with all her strength.

It felt like pure torture, one that felt like a sharp knife cutting her flesh open.

It was then Dior recalled that there was a pile of sharp bamboos that scratched her arm when they tumbled down the slope. 1

She did not have the time to care about this, however.

Yes, she did feel pain and could make out the scent of iron in the air after their fall. Too busy worrying over Harry, Dior had assumed it was just a small cut, that the scent of blood was from Harry.

She had no inkling just how severely wounded she was, but upon noticing the wound...she realized she was just as hurt, too.

D*mn it.

Harry, at that moment, turned to look at Dior. With the faint light that shone from outside the pit, he noticed just how bloodied her arm was with a deep gash. It was mortifying.

Harry frowned. "Are you hurt?" "I'm fine," replied Dior listlessly, her face losing its color, "you go up first."

Harry looked at her darkly and countered, "No, you go first." "But you can’t move your legs! Who's going to get you onto the stretcher?"

Harry pursed his lips.

Her arm was wounded. How could he leave her here alone? This was not something a man should do!

Despite the searing pain she endured, an idea occurred to Dior when she looked at the stretcher. She bit her lower lip and offered, "Why don't you hug me, and we both go up at the same time?"

Harry was speechless.

How could she even think of this at such an urgent moment?

Dior saw how speechless he was and felt rather proud of herself.

Since this had already happened, she must make the most out of this opportunity!

Dior's eyes narrowed as she stressed, her agony evident on her face, "Let's go up together, Harry. Even if you go first, I'll be anxious on my own here. But, if I go first, you won’t manage on your own. If your leg injuries worsen, I'll have to take care of you for the rest of your life."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

True, he could not stand on his own for the time being, and if his leg injuries worsened, he would not be able to look up in front of Sonia.

As for this woman...

There was no denying that her tug sent them tumbling down the slope and into this pit, but she would not even be here and endure so much pain if he did not use her for his gain.