Charlotte Miller's body was trembling, Atlas Hallow's hand supported her shoulder, then slowly moved along her slender shoulder down to her arm, touching through the thin shirt to the spot where the cosmetic adhesive was applied.
Then his large hand gripped her arm like a vise, gradually increasing the pressure.
Charlotte began to feel some pain; inside was the surgical wound, with a small row of injections inside. Would something happen if he squeezed too hard?
Charlotte struggled to break free from his grip, but there was no way; their strength disparity was too great.
Atlas's hand rested on the spot of her wound, not applying extreme force but seemed ready to break it at any moment.
