Chapter 2 Would She Feel Pain?

Subconsciousness wouldn't cheat. At that critical moment, she was even inferior to the ghost card of Charlize in his eyes. Her heart even missed a beat, but in the next moment she was relieved. The one who cared only about Charlize was the real Clinton. Clinton took the ghost card and retreated with the protection of the body guards. Maybe it was a misunderstanding that Sandra seemed to see a bit guilt in his eyes while he was looking at her away from the crowd, further away. She was taken by Jon. As it developed totally out of her expectation. But fortunately, she got her gun. Her hand felt its way to the waist and took the gun out, pointing towards her left bosom. Yes, this was the right place. From the rear mirror, she could see the panic eyes of the driver. Bang! A big gun fired. The bullet penetrated her shoulder and shot at the heart of the old man, in a second. Jon opened his eyes wide, unbelievably and shivered his body twice, his hand holding the gun falling down softly, motionless. Jon, who had good luck always in the underground world for half a century, couldn't imagine someday like that he would be killed in that way. Sandra brushed away his hand and felt his breath. After the confirmation, she blew the gun and pointed it at the driver's head. "Drive back!" These were the only words she said after she was kidnapped. The driver was shivering like hell, as if he went into a ghost, which made him almost driving at wrong gears. Sandra knew what he was afraid of. She killed him by hurting herself. It was bleeding at her shoulder, but she looked calm and indifferent. Yeah, it was not just that she looked like fine. Actually, it was not painful at all. She didn't feel pain by nature. The car was driven back to the hotel quickly. Sandra opened the door by herself as the driver escaped the car already, eloping. People at the hotel came over immediately. "Ms. Sandra?" She put on a faint smile at her mouth and almost stumbled to fall down. In her vague view, the man came out from the crowd quickly while looking at the car swiftly. At the back seat, Jon was dead, with blood in his mouth and his eyes wide open. His delicate handsome face was obviously angry. "Who told you to take action on your own?" Sandra didn't understand why he was angry. It was clear that she settled a big case for him by herself." If it wasn't the only thing she could do, she wouldn't have taken the risk of probably killing herself too. She shook her head, trying to explain. But she became more and more dizzy, and then her body falling onto the ground softly. Clinton hesitated for a second and then still put her in his arms. In her last sense, she tried to push him away with her hand. "No, sir, dirty." So much blood. She remembered he was a neat freak. His face became more and more twisted, but he was still holding her stubbornly and got into the car his bodyguard was driving. "I knew every inch of your body. Now you are telling me "Dirty"?!" The blood was flooding suddenly from her shoulder, which tainted her wedding dress and his white shirt, looked like the red lotus in white snow. He saw her lips became more and more colorless. He lowered his voice out of sympathy in order not to disturb her. "Is it painful?" She shook her head, eyes closed. He was surprised for a second and then laughed to himself when he remembered suddenly. "Yeah, I forgot you were unable to feel pain." Sandra curled her lips up vaguely. Yes, she couldn't feel pain. Congenital pain and anhidrosis. She had never known what pain was. But there was a bitter and sullen feeling at her heart. Was it pain? She had no idea. It became darker and darker to her. She was in deep coma.