Injured
Yasmine looked over suddenly, and the man stared ahead, gripping the steering wheel with both hands.
His hands were slender, and his knuckles were distinct, just like a perfect piece of artwork.
His profile was too outstanding, with contours that seemed to be outlined with charcoal, sharp and distinct.
The protruding Adam's apple showcased the man's s****l tension, faintly exuding a wild scent.
The dim yellow light of the streetlamp shone on his face, casting alternating shadows and highlights on his features, creating a sense of mystery.
Russell glanced at her, "Did you really think so?"
His voice sounded like it had been rubbed with sandpaper, with a low and magnetic tone, which was very pleasant to listen to.
Yasmine stared at him, "Russell, weren't you loyal to your wif
